It Came Upon a Voidless Clear
by doodlegirll
Summary: Carlos takes Cecil home to meet his family for Christmas. A tale of overcoming bias, fear, and closed-mindedness, love in all forms, bright green parkas, snowball fights, and gingerbread exploding. Nothing out of the ordinary for Christmastime, right? (Night Vale; Cecilos)
1. God Rest Ye Night Valeans

**What is this? Me actually writing a full-length NV fic? What?! **

**Tis, true, dearies! I have been bit by a rapid plot bunny! (No seriously. It bit and hung onto my elbow, I grabbed a notebook, and the story wrote itself right then and there. Literally half a notebook in four days. Not kidding. All of this is the final drafting.)**

**Currently it is the Christmas season, and I'm always itching to write a holiday-themed fic around this time of year, and for some reason, I chose Night Vale as my newest victim. While I know that there are only a handful of fics out there (most on AO3) about Cecil meeting Carlos's family, but I've noticed that none of them involve the issue of homophobia, which I found vaguely interesting. While I myself am 100 percent against homophobia, I feel that it is an important topic, especially within the dynamics of a family, that need to be addressed before understanding and acceptance can come into play. While the topic of homophobia will be, indeed, partially central to the plot of this story, it is mostly a fic about Cecil becoming integrated into Carlos's family, with some interesting mishaps along the way. ;) (And Christmas. Love the Christmas.) **

**Anyway! I hope you enjoy! This is only the second WTNV fic I've ever written, so I'm still getting the hang of the characterizations. :) **

**CHAPTER SONG: "Counting Stars" by OneRepublic **

_**Disclaimer: WTNV is a production of Commonplace Books. It is written by Joseph Fink and produced by Jeffory Crannor. Cecil owns himself. I own nothing. **_

* * *

**It Came Upon a Voidless Clear**

A _Welcome to Night Vale _fanfiction

By doodlegirll

...oOo...

Chapter One: God Rest Ye Night Valeans

He hated that damn alarm clock, with its annoying wail and incessant clicking noises at ungodly hours of the morning when he'd much rather be enjoying the blessed sanctity of slumber. Hated it. Damned it to hell for all eternity.

Carlos groggily groped for the snooze button on the alarm clock next to the bed, refusing to open his eyes. He finally located the offending contraption and jammed his fist down onto it, silencing the wretched crooning that had interrupted his peaceful sleep. He groaned, forcing himself to turn his head to squint at the fuzzy, glowing green digits in the darkness of the room. He found his glasses where he had left them the night before next to the lamp, and slipped them onto his nose. The time on the clock swam into view.

6:22 AM.

Carlos groaned again and yawned, rubbing his eyes tiredly. While he knew that the clock was bound to go off again, louder this time, if he didn't get out of bed, he couldn't bring himself to budge just yet. Today was already a tangled mess of a day; couldn't he at least get five extra minutes of sleep?

Something warm shifted beside him in the bed, and Carlos turned his head to find Cecil still sleeping, snoring quietly, curled into a ball against Carlos's side. It was nothing short of a miracle that he had managed to sleep through the earsplitting chorus of the alarm clock; Carlos was absolutely convinced that the man could sleep through a nuclear war and wake up the next morning as perky and cheerful as ever.

And, considering everything else he'd seen and experienced the last year and a half, Carlos wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't too far from the truth.

Careful not to disturb Cecil, Carlos slowly extracted himself from the warm sheets of the bed, setting his bare feet on the plush carpet of the floor. He tiptoed quietly to the door, slipping into the hallway.

As he made his way towards Cecil's tiny apartment kitchen, the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee hit him like a brick wall, wafting seductively from the coffeepot in the corner next to the microwave that had a tendency to steal bites of food, in particular lasagna. Carlos whispered his thanks to the Faceless Old Woman that (not so) secretly lived in Cecil's quaint abode, and poured himself a cup into Cecil's NVCR mug by the sink.

He stood with his back pressed against the counter as he slowly drank the coffee, allowing the warmth to slowly bring him back to life. As his brain waves began to return to normal functioning levels, the scientist sighed contentedly, enjoying the quiet hum of the refrigerator in the dimness of the kitchen. The Faceless Old Woman had brewed this batch just as Carlos liked it: black, with a slight oaky tone to it, with just a hint of a sweet aftertaste. Once he had downed the cup and went back for half another, he made sure that there was still enough left in the pot for Cecil and deposited the mug in the sink, making sure to run water into it so that his radio host could use it later.

Quietly, he padded his way back down the hall and into the bathroom, where he retrieved his gym shorts and old Caltech t-shirt from where Cecil had neatly folded them on top of the hamper, next to his clothes for the day. He pulled the shorts over his boxers and peeled off the shirt he had slept in, replacing it with the Caltech one. He quickly brushed his teeth and sloshed some of Cecil's fruity mouthwash around for a few seconds before drowning down a Dixie cup of water from the tap. He carefully laid his glasses down on the counter and made his way back into the living room, where he found his socks and old tennis shoes where he had left them by the door. He pulled them on and laced them up before very quietly opening the door.

The chilled desert air struck his face as Carlos stepped outside of the apartment building into the early morning atmosphere. He loved Night Vale in the early morning, just before the sun came up. It was always so serene, a time when there were no tiny armies preparing for war beneath Lane 5 of the bowling alley, no sentient glow clouds raining dead animals and/or various sets of patio furniture, no doppelganger-inducing sandstorms. All was well.

Carlos jogged his way through town, enjoying the placid environment as it welcomed the first rays of sunlight like fingers reaching for the cookie jar at the edge of the cupboard. He raised his hand in greeting as he passed Old Woman Josie's house, where she sat on her front porch in her pink fluffy bathrobe and house slippers, her white hair up in curlers as one of her angels handed her a steaming cup.

He ran past the Dog Park, shuddering as he gave it a sideward glance. As curious as he was to study the scientific properties of it, Carlos had never gotten around to doing so. Cecil refused to speak of it off-air, and quite frankly, Carlos found it slightly creepy. He suppressed the scientific tingling at the back of his brain and sped up just a bit, grateful to leave the looming obsidian walls of the Dog Park behind him.

He slowed to a walk as he finally neared Big Rico's, fishing around in his pockets and producing the key to his lab. He walked up the empty driveway – his car was currently parked next to Cecil's back at the apartment building – to the front door, where he inserted the key into the lock and walked inside.

It wasn't that he needed to come by; Carlos had made sure the night before that everything was in order. He had left emergency numbers and a series of lists on the corkboard in the corner detailing his instructions for his teammates while he was gone for the next nine days, as well as the total inventory list of supplies that was set to be delivered by the end of the week.

He smirked lightly as he passed his hand over the smooth counter, and he felt tiny sparks of anticipation bloom in the pit of his stomach like butterflies hatching from their cocoons.

Nine days. After a year and a half in Night Vale, he was _finally _getting a chance to get away and enjoy life in a world where science made sense 24/7, not only when it felt like it (which was never). As much as he had grown to love the odd little town he now called home, it would be nice to experience normalcy again.

And, not only that, but it would be nice to spend some quality time with Cecil.

He knew his brother and sister were excited to finally meet the eccentric radio host he had called his boyfriend for a little over six months now, and he knew that his parents were at least curious, his mother demanding photos and Skype calls that he never got around to sending. He had been anxiously counting down the hours to the day Cecil met his family since their first date, and finally, that day had arrived.

Carlos sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

It wasn't that his parents were absolutely _against _the fact that he was gay; in fact his mother was wonderfully supportive and accepting of the knowledge. His father, on the other hand, was less accepting, leaning more towards homophobic than the rest of his family, however much he and his son actually got along, but Carlos's homosexuality was not something that was spoken of often.

Still, he supposed he could count his father's agreement to allow him to bring Cecil along to spend Christmas with them as a sign that he was, at the very least, trying.

While Carlos had no doubt in his mind that his family would love his boyfriend as much as he did, even his father, he was, however, nervous about introducing Cecil to his grandmother. His Abuela was a loving, but stern lady, and very devout in her Catholic beliefs. While he had come out to his parents and siblings about his sexuality at sixteen, he had never quite gotten around to revealing the fact to Abuela; the timing had never seemed quite right. She never asked him about his personal relationships much whenever he called to talk to her, and even when she did, Carlos always wrote it off by saying he didn't have time for romance, what with his leading the mission in Night Vale and all.

_A scientist is self-reliant, _he reminded himself dryly. _That's the first thing a scientist is. _

What truly made him uncomfortable, however, was the fact that he had not bridged the topic of this to Cecil. While Carlos was used to the ridicule and stares that usually came with being a gay man in a society that considered it an abnormal practice, he wasn't sure Cecil had ever encountered anything like it before; Night Vale was many things, but prejudice against any and all forms of love was not one of them. He knew that he couldn't allow Cecil to go into the world outside of Night Vale blindly, but he also couldn't bring himself to approach the subject in a way that he knew he'd be able to adequately explain. The concept of homophobia didn't exist in Night Vale, and he wondered if Cecil had ever even heard the term in the first place. Carlos had always kept his sexuality under wraps, never allowing himself to reveal more than he felt necessary, but his boyfriend had never been as reclusive, even going so far as to speak of his unending love for him on the radio whenever the opportunity arose.

Not only was explaining homophobia to Cecil downright uncomfortable, but the idea of having to explain that Carlos's own father fell into at least a subcategory of it made his skin crawl. He knew his father _tolerated _it, but he also knew that he preferred not to acknowledge it, if at all possible, even going so far, over the phone when the Carlos first pitched the idea of Cecil coming to him, as to suggest that he and Cecil sleep in different rooms. Carlos's mother had intervened then, citing that it was likely they had already, at the very least, shared a bed by now. His father held no contest to his mother's word.

Carlos's siblings had never had a single negative thing to say in regards to his sexual leanings, and for that, he would be forever grateful. In high school, shortly after coming out, Carlos had found himself the butt end of many a joke, in particular from those of more athletic status than himself, and had once almost been shoved into a locker had his older brother Andre not stepped in. He swallowed the memory like a bitter pill. He had walked away from the situation in tact and, more importantly, not shoved into a locker, but from then on he had also been seen as weak and unable to fight his own battles; it wasn't until he began allowing some of the boys from the football team to copy his chemistry homework that the torment became stagnant.

He wasn't about to allow homophobia to interfere with his vacation, or with his holiday. Even if he had to grit his teeth and bear it, he would get through this.

And, of course, he had Cecil. The thought made him smile.

Satisfied that everything was in order, and after a quick note telling his colleagues he wished them a Merry Christmas (and Kwanzaa, in Jason's case), Carlos locked up and began his jog back towards Cecil's apartment.

...oOo...

He had managed to sneak back into the apartment undetected, grateful that the Faceless Old Woman had opted to turn on the computer and troll around the internet reading _Sex & the City _fanfiction instead of turning up the stereo, which she liked to use to blast polka music if Cecil wasn't looking.

Carlos ridded himself of his sweaty shirt and shorts almost immediately, stepping into the shower and turning it on full blast. The water (which held a slight green tint to it and smelled faintly of candle wax) was a blessed relief has he scrubbed away the thin layer of sweat and grime that had settled on his tanned skin (caramel, Cecil called it) from his run. He washed his hair, running his hands through the thick curls, noting how long it had gotten, and chuckled, knowing his mother would likely comment on it later and suggest a haircut, much to Cecil's chagrin. He had, with his boyfriend's persistence, permitted it to grow out enough to the point of needing to sometimes pull it back when handling excessively corrosive chemicals in the lab, or whenever a Bunsen burner was in use so that the tendrils didn't flop into his face, or catch on fire. He shuddered at the mere thought of the smell of burnt hair; it had taken his lab partner in college weeks to rid himself of the odor.

Finally clean, he climbed out of the shower, setting his feet on the moss bathmat and drying himself off as best as possible. He grabbed the clean pair of boxers from atop his folded clothes and slipped them on before he tugged his clean undershirt over his head. He located his glasses where he had left them and put them on before he attempted to survey himself in the foggy mirror.

As he made his way back into the bedroom to retrieve a clean pair of socks from his suitcase, he found Cecil sprawled across the bed on his stomach, still sleeping soundly, his face buried in a pillow. Carlos shook his head, smiling slightly. His boyfriend often tried to convince others that _Carlos _was the bedhog, when in reality, Cecil was far from innocent.

Carlos dared a glance at the damnable alarm clock, which had taken to floating four inches above the night stand in his absence, Cecil's purple rimmed glasses next to it, and noted that it was now 8:16.

It was now or never.

Carlos sat down on the edge of the bed, and reached out a hand to touch Cecil's shoulder, shaking it gently.

"Cecil." He said. "It's time to wake up."

Cecil groaned, loudly, as he was pulled from the warmth of unconsciousness, mumbling something that sounded like "day off, sleep in" into the down of the pillow.

Carlos shook his head. Cecil, while most definitely the more morning oriented of the two of them, was never one to get out of bed willingly if he absolutely didn't have to.

"Cecil," Carlos shook his shoulder again. "Come on. It's time."

Cecil raised his head, but did not open his eyes. "Five more minutes." He grumbled.

Carlos chuckled.

"Wish I could let you, _quierdo_." He said regretfully. "But our flight leaves at noon, and it's almost eight thirty."

Cecil groaned again, and remained firmly cemented to the sheets of the bed. Carlos smirked and leaned across the bed, kissing Cecil's white-blond hair and leaning in close to his ear.

"_Lo siento, quierdo._" He whispered as he snaked his hand beneath Cecil's torso, and prodded at the spot just above Cecil's navel, which he knew to be the one spot where Cecil was ticklish. Cecil yelped and his body jerked away from Carlos, and he fell, unceremoniously, onto the floor in a tangle of blankets and limbs. His bleary violet eyes were wide in surprise.

"Car_loooos._" He whined, his sonorous voice still thick with sleep. "You know how I feel about sensitivity warfare!"

Carlos laughed and bent down to kiss Cecil's nose.

"All's fair in love and war, _mi amor._" He held out his hand for Cecil as he straightened himself back into a standing position.

Cecil _hmmfed _as he took Carlos's outstretched hand. Carlos kissed his cheek as he turned and walked towards the door.

"Are waffles okay for breakfast?" He asked, pausing to turn and look back at the radio host from the door. "The Faceless Old Woman made me coffee this morning, and I'd like to return the favor."

"Waffles would be delightful." Cecil said as he unwound himself from the comforter and began to make the bed. "I'll be there momentarily."

Carlos nodded, and made his way down the hall.

"Oh," he called over his shoulder. "The water in the shower is green today, and sort of smells like wax. Thought you might want to know."

"Hm." He heard Cecil mumble. "Then it's going to rain today."

* * *

**My headcanon Cecil is loosely based on tumblr user Nazi Nurse's Cecil, though I find it important to note that MY Cecil is human, with sentient tattoo sleeves and white-blond hair, with (only 2) purple eyes. My headcanon Carlos is hers. Seriously, check out her art! It's AMAZING. **


	2. Here Comes Cecilos

**So I realized that I had posted this chapter on AO3, but not here...so here you go! I had some fun writing this chapter! Domesticity is always a fun thing, even though many see it as boring, or an excuse for "filler." But au contraire! Domesticity is lovely, and cozy, and can be absolutely hysterical if you sit down to think about it. :) Also, the Faceless Old Woman is awesome to write. She's absolutely endless in her antics and possibilities! :D **

**(In case you're wondering, yes, the chapter titles are spoofs of Christmas carols. ;) Cheesy, yes, but at Christmastime, I hardly care at all! :D)**

**The lyrics used in this chapter are from S Club 7's "Natural." My best friend is a chemist, and I have sworn that I will have the DJ play this as her first dance song. :)**

**CHAPTER SONG: "Natural" by S Club 7 (yeah...that's probably why it's in this chapter, I admit it...)**

_**Disclaimer: WTNV is a production of Commonplace Books. It is written by Joseph Fink and produced by Jeffory Crannor. Cecil owns himself. I own nothing. **_

* * *

**It Came Upon a Voidless Clear**

A _Welcome to Night Vale _fanfiction

By doodlegirll

...oOo...

Chapter Two: Here Comes Cecilos

The rest of the morning had gone smoothly enough: Carlos had cooked waffles, four of which had become stuck to the ceiling (the Faceless Old Woman seemed to be pleased with his gift of thanks), and six of which had been consumed between Carlos and Cecil, complete with syrup and banana slices. Cecil had tried to find whipped cream to top it with, but no sooner had he pulled it from the refrigerator did it, too, become stuck to the ceiling. In the middle of their meal, the stereo in the corner had also begun blasting loud polka music, and several of Cecil's potted plants had begun to sway rhythmically to the tune.

Carlos shook his head. "You know, we _could _just program that stereo to play only channels we approve of." He had mused between bites of waffle. "Then she—"

Cecil nearly spit his coffee all over the table as he quickly leant across to stuff the rest of the waffle into his boyfriend's mouth, thus rendering the scientist unable to finish his sentence.

"Why would you want to do that?!" He asked incredulously.

Carlos, after having recovered from nearly choking, raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you hated polka music?"

"Well, it's not my favorite, I'll admit." Cecil said with a shrug of his shoulders. "But the _last _thing you want to do is offend the Faceless Old Woman that Secretly Lives in Your Home. Hell hath no fury like a Faceless Old Woman scorned, my dear Carlos. _Hell hath no fury._" His deep voice had become dark and serious, and Carlos felt a slight shiver rush down his spine, vividly remembering the Glow Cloud.

"I'll take your word for it." He said, glancing up at the ceiling, where the waffles had disappeared, as well as the can of whipped cream.

He and Cecil quickly finished their breakfast, Cecil gulping down another cup of coffee before he rushed to take a shower while Carlos cleaned up. As he heard the water shut off in the bathroom and the distinct _thump _and a yelp of pain, indicating Cecil had once again whacked his knee on the vanity whilst rummaging for his glasses, he made his way back into the bedroom to retrieve his and Cecil's bags for the trip.

Cecil's plum colored bag and his red one sat side by side at the foot of the bed where they had left them the night before, and Carlos made sure to glance inside Cecil's to confirm that he had made sure to pack warm clothes for the trip. The weather in Night Vale stayed fairly consistent no matter the time of year, but upstate New York was a different story. Sure enough, Cecil had made sure to pack a myriad of sweaters, and Carlos recognized several of the button down dress shirts Cecil usually wore to work.

Satisfied, Carlos grabbed the handles and began the trek to his car outside, where he promptly loaded the bags into the trunk. As he did so, his phone buzzed in his back pocket, and he pulled it out to find a text message waiting for him.

_Carmen: We got a good six inches of snow over the weekend, and the weather guy just said we can expect more this week. Hope that desert heat hasn't made you go all sandpiper on us! ;)_

Carlos rolled his eyes, but sent his sister a reply of thanks anyway before re-pocketing the phone and heading back into the apartment building.

As he walked into the bedroom, he found Cecil half dressed, his button down shirt – purple pinstripes, Carlos noted – laid out neatly on the bed. Cecil's phone was pressed to his ear, and he was trying to dry his wet hair with his free hand, albeit badly.

"No, no, he's not picky about flavors, but Cleopatra…yes, that's the one closest to the towel dispenser…she'll only eat tuna flavored canned food. I keep a stock under my desk." He listened to whoever it was on the other line before he smiled that brilliant smile that made Carlos's ears glow red whenever it was directed at him. "Excellent! Thank you, Dana!" Another pause, and Cecil threw the towel aside, waving his hand almost dismissingly. "Yes, I packed my tape recorder so I can document my travels. It's in my carry-on. Yes, I _promise _I'll update daily, Dana!"

After a few more moments, Cecil nodded his head. "Thank you again, Dana. See you in nine days! Good luck keeping everything in order while I'm gone! I'll tell Carlos you said hello." He chuckled. "Bye, Dana."

He ended the call, and looked at Carlos.

"That was Dana. She's feeding Khoshekh and his kittens while I'm gone."

Carlos nodded. "I gathered." He gestured to the shirt on the bed. "You'll want something heavier to go over that. Carmen texted and said they got six inches of snow and the Weather Channel website said it's only about sixteen degrees."

Cecil's face lit up and he walked over to the closet, from which he pulled a bright, neon green parka with black and blue trim. It looked like a road working cactus gone wrong, and it hurt Carlos's eyes.

"I am very well prepared for that, my darling Carlos." Cecil said. "There was a very unusual day one July where the sun decided not to rise and all of Night Vale was buried in a foot of orange snow that burned if you touched it, and let me tell you, it was _not _fun to clean off of your car in the morning!"

Carlos blinked and tried to ignore the coat as it practically glowed, but he found that its image had been burned to the back of his eyelids. He shook his head.

"Well…that will certainly keep you from getting lost in the event of a whiteout." He grinned. "I'm almost convinced you'd be able to see you from a mile away."

"More like three-quarters of a mile." Cecil corrected as he pulled his arms into the shirt and began to button it up, pulling the sleeves over his tattoos, the purple tentacles wiggling in protest.

He forewent the tie he usually wore, opting instead for a purple knitted scarf with the NVCR logo on one end. He slipped his purple glasses onto his nose and grinned as he stepped closer to his boyfriend.

"I'm ready whenever you are." He proclaimed. "How long is the ride to the airport?"

"About an hour." Carlos answered as he double checked the contents of his backpack, making sure all the chargers and notebooks were there, as well as the few illegal pens he had managed to conceal from the Sheriff's Secret Police (by hiding them in strategic locations around his lab, such as the loose floorboard in his bedroom underneath the left bedpost; he had even managed to conceal one within the handle of a wooden spoon) before slinging it over his shoulders. "Then we'll have to get through security, which could take upwards of an hour. Our plane boards at…" He dug in his pocket and produced his phone once more, checking the app. "11:50, so let's hope security goes fast."

Cecil grabbed his shoulder bag from the bed and folded his obnoxiously colored coat over his arm. He gave Carlos a quick kiss as he passed him out the door.

Carlos smiled and returned the kiss, but the knots of anxiety in his stomach were hard to ignore as he pulled away to peer into his boyfriend's eager lavender eyes. Life outside Night Vale was suddenly very close, and so was the halting reality at just how different the world was beyond the city limits. Here they were, about to venture out into the world in which Carlos had spent his entire life up until only a year and a half ago, a world that was bound to be just as strange to Cecil as Night Vale had been to Carlos, and he wasn't sure he would be able to prepare Cecil for it.

Without another word, the two of them strode from the apartment, and Cecil locked the door as they shut it behind them before they made their way towards Carlos's car in the parking lot. Carlos's head immediately began to hurt as they slipped into the scalding hot interior of the vehicle, but Cecil seemed unfazed.

"So!" Cecil said as Carlos started the car and cranked up the air conditioning as high as it would go. "Care for some music?" He held up his purple iPod.

Carlos shrugged. "Sure, why not?" He said. "Better listen to it now before we leave town. Once we're in the airport, all you're hear from there on out is Christmas music."

"Christmas music isn't all bad, dear Carlos." Cecil said as he hooked the MP3 player into the cassette adapter, scrolling through a playlist Carlos could see was titled _Songs That Piss of Steve Carlsberg._ "My own personal favorite is 'God Rest Ye Of Very Unfortunate Lineage,' but of course some of the classics like 'Here We Come a Groveling' and 'Santa Claus is Skipping Your House This Year' are wonderful as well."

Carlos laughed. "I don't think you're going to be hearing any of those variations once we're out of Night Vale." He said. "Honestly, I'm still surprised that you celebrate Christmas at all in Night Vale!"

"Of course we do!" Cecil said, indignantly. "When else would we pay our tributes to the invisible statues outside of City Hall?"

Carlos rolled his eyes, but the smile remained firmly planted on his face as he reached over and took Cecil's hand in his. The tattoos on Cecil's wrists squirmed in pleasure as the tentacles reached out to touch Carlos's skin as it brushed their host's, twisting and curling in acrobatic synchronism. Carlos chuckled; every once in a while he swore he could actually _feel _the tattoos as they moved, almost as if they were trying to escape from the confines of Cecil's skin and venture onto his own.

"Stop that, you." Cecil scolded the tattoos. "Pick a position that's comfortable, because you're going to be there for nine days!"

Carlos raised his eyebrow. "You mean they aren't going to move?"

Cecil shook his head. "No, they only move within the city limits." He explained. "When I was in Europe while still in college, they didn't move at all until I returned home."

"I didn't know that." Carlos said. "But I guess it's for the best."

Cecil cocked his head. "Why?" He asked. "Don't you like them?"

"Of course I do! I think they're beautiful." He traced the length of one of the tentacles with his finger, momentarily letting go of Cecil's hand to do so. "It's just that…well, I don't think my family has ever seen a sentient tattoo before. I know I hadn't before I met you! It might…put them off, just a little."

_Among other things, if your father is taken into consideration, _he reminded himself bitterly.

Cecil poked at one of the tattoos, and it slapped at his finger indignantly. "Not to worry." He assured his scientist. "Once we're past the city limits, they should cease their movement until we return from our endeavors."

Carlos chuckled, and brushed his knuckles across the tattoos one last time before he retracted his hand back to the steering wheel. Cecil returned to hooking up his iPod into the adaptor stuck into the cassette player.

_Baby loving you,_

_Comes easily to me_

_It's what I'm living for,_

_It's all in the chemistry! _

_Baby loving you,_

_Is how it's meant to be,_

_It's something that is _

_Oh so natural to me!_

The song blasted to life as soon as Cecil attached it to the jack, and he quickly silenced it, blushing furiously as he glanced at Carlos, who chuckled.

"S Club 7, huh?" He questioned. "A bit Nineties, wouldn't you say? It's not what you usually listen to."

"Well…" Cecil shrugged. "I heard Intern Cynthia singing it the other day as she worked on some of her homework in the break room at work a couple months ago, and, well…it reminds me of you."

Carlos squeezed Cecil's hand before he let go to replace it on the wheel as he put the car into drive and carefully navigated it into the road and down the street, towards the center of town.

"It's fine." He said. "Carmen was obsessed with them when we were teenagers. She used to turn that one up especially load whenever she knew I was trying to study, especially when I was studying for chemistry."

Cecil grinned at him, and finally selected a song from a playlist titled _Be Warned. _

As they neared the edge of town, Carlos couldn't help but glance out of the corner of his eye at Cecil, in particular the sleeves of tattoos. The tattoos were still wiggling and twitching across Cecil's skin, but just as Carlos directed the car past the sign that said "Welcome to Night Vale, population: varies by day," the tattoos suddenly stopped moving all together, as though they had never moved in the first place.

Carlos reached out to take Cecil's hand again, squeezing it.

They were on their way, and for the first time in a while, Carlos was beginning to feel a bit excited.


	3. Carol of the Cries of Fowl

**I continue to tell myself to make sure I post the new chapters here when I post them on AO3, but I have been so busy lately I just keep forgetting! I apologize. Honestly, if you want, I update this more frequently on AO3 than I do here, simply because AO3 has a WTNV section, whereas FFN does not, so I tend to lean more towards its direction for this fandom than I do here, though I absolutely prefer FFN and will be true to it until I die (seven years on a site will do that to you, I suppose). :) So yes! Thank you for your patience!**

**This chapter was a challenge for me to write, simply because I found out very VERY quickly that I am in no way comfortable writing homophobic slurs. That being said, please be aware that there_ IS homophobic language in this chapter_, and I apologize in advance if that makes anyone squirm. It's essential to the plot, and believe me, I didn't like it either. Not a bit. Nope nada nien never. However, I did find this chapter fun to write, simply for the fact that it was a challenge, and I like a good challenge. :) **

**CHAPTER SONG: "Let It Go" by Idina Menzel **

_**Disclaimer: WTNV is a production of Commonplace Books. It is written by Joseph Fink and produced by Jeffory Crannor. Cecil owns himself. I own nothing. **_

* * *

**It Came Upon a Voidless Clear**

A _Welcome to Night Vale _fanfiction

By doodlegirll

...oOo...

Chapter Three: Carol of the Cries of Fowl

The rest of the ride to the airport had been uneventful, save for the plethora of interesting music that emanated from the playlists of Cecil's iPod. While Cecil had never been one that Carlos would describe as necessarily _quiet, _the silence that had fallen between them shortly after leaving the parameters of Night Vale behind them had been comfortable, contented, and Carlos had found that he rather enjoyed the companionable feeling it gave him as he dared glances at his boyfriend from the corner of his eyes.

Having parked his car in the secure extended parking lot and making sure that it was checked in properly, Carlos hefted his and Cecil's bags from the trunk and slammed it shut, locking the car with the fob in his pocket behind him as he and Cecil started towards the looming building before them.

Cecil's purple eyes were wide with excitement, and Carlos couldn't help but smile as he watched Cecil gaze upwards as the planes took off overhead, the asphalt below their feet rumbling, the scream of the engines deafening.

They entered the airport and headed to the check in counter. The woman behind the counter – a spritely young woman with golden hair underneath a felt Santa hat, big blue eyes, and a nametag that read "Rylee" – greeted them as they approached.

"Good morning!" She said. "How can I help you?"

"Check in, please." Carlos said as he handed her his and Cecil's ticket information. She inspected them carefully and typed the information into the computer. As she did so, Cecil's cell phone suddenly started ringing, and he stepped away from Carlos to answer it.

"Alright, you're just about set." Rylee said as she finished typing in the last of the information. "Nothing perishable or hazardous inside?"

Carlos suppressed a chuckle as he shook his head. If only this girl knew where he and Cecil were coming from!

Rylee had him lift both of the bags onto the scale, and she tagged them and set them on the conveyor belt. She handed Carlos his tickets.

"Terminal 37." She instructed, smiling at him warmly. "Have a Merry Christmas!"

"And you as well." Carlos smiled back at her.

He found Cecil standing a few from the line, his phone pocketed.

"That was Dana." He said, his face nonchalant. "Apparently Intern Silas was corporeally absorbed by a wormhole that randomly appeared in the women's restroom earlier today, and when he came back out of it, his right hands had become his left, and his left hands became his right."

Carlos blinked. "Hands?"

"Of course! He has four arms on each side. Why?"

Carlos shook his head. "Never mind." He held up their tickets. "Terminal 37. Are you ready?"

Cecil grinned and slipped his hand into Carlos's. "Yes!" He said enthusiastically.

Carlos smiled at him, but the fingers laced with his were like fire on frostbite as he dared glances out of the corner of his eyes at the people walking past them. He swallowed as he saw one middle aged couple eyeing them suspiciously, as though they were holding pipe bombs.

Had he been younger, by even just a few years, had he not seen many of the things in the last year and a half that had been seared into his memory for all eternity, had he been the man he had been before, Carlos would have dropped Cecil's hand right there and then. He would have avoided the hurt look that would have undoubtedly crossed his boyfriend's face, the confusion in his eyes, and made up an excuse to hurry things along without touching the other man. He would have given into the judgmental stares, cracked under the pressure like a test tube being trod upon, or a beaker being cooled too quickly after being removed from a flame.

But Carlos was not that man. Not any longer.

Instead, Carlos held Cecil's hand tighter, as though terrified that the man would disappear right then and there, like a puff of smoke into a vortex. He refused to allow complete strangers to force him to feel ashamed. So instead, he ignored the couple and gently led Cecil away before he could notice the couple's patronizing glances.

Cecil's step was light as they walked towards the – blessedly short – line that would lead them through security. He busied himself by scanning the information on his and Cecil's tickets, turning them over to read the insurance and return policy information on the back, if only to avoid making eye contact with anyone who might have been staring like the couple at the check-in had been. Cecil bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly, his hand still clenching tightly to Carlos's, and when he dared a glance out the corner of his eye at his scientist, he grinned. Carlos caught it, and gave him a small grin back in reply, stuffing the tickets into his jacket pocket.

Finally, they neared the conveyor belts. Carlos let go of Cecil's hand to remove his shoes and place them in the plastic bin, followed by his backpack, removing his laptop and placing it in its own bin, followed by his black coat. Cecil cocked his head to the side, studying Carlos's actions intently.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"You have to take your shoes off and put them in these." Carlos said, gesturing to the bins. "Your bag has to go in one, too, so they can x-ray it."

"Why would they want to do that?"

"Well, to make sure you don't have anything dangerous in your luggage." Carlos rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed. It had been years since Cecil had even left Night Vale, let alone flown; in fact, he was fairly certain that his trip to Europe – if it could even be considered Europe; all of the countries Cecil had mentioned were not ones that Carlos had ever seen on any map before – was the first and only time Cecil had ever flown, and surely that was well over a decade before, at least.

"And why would you want to take something dangerous onto a plane?" Cecil questioned as he tugged his feet from his shoes.

Carlos shrugged. "I wish I could tell you." He said. He cocked an eyebrow. "Why would you want to take a pen out in public?"

Cecil shushed him. "That's not funny, and you know it." He said as he gently placed his shoes and various electronics into a bin, followed closely by his bright green parka.

"Same basic principle." Carlos said as he pushed the bin towards the x-ray machine and stood behind the man in front of him. "Now, here you're going to walk through the metal detectors and then we can get our stuff and get to our terminal."

Cecil nodded, and watched as Carlos was beckoned forward through the metal detectors into a chamber-like cylinder, where he raised his hands above his head and stood still after handing the man on the other side of the chamber his metal framed glasses. The walls of the chamber rotated around him, and he was allowed to exit to the other side.

Cecil watched, fascinated, as he waited patiently for his turn. After a few seconds, he was asked to step into the cylinder. He handed his watch – the one true time piece in all of Night Vale – to the security guard on the other side of the chamber, a bit anxious at the prospect of parting with it, even if he knew that it was in safe hands.

"Glasses too, please." The guard asked. Cecil slipped the plastic frames from his nose and handed them to her. He then turned and raised his arms above his head and stood very still, just as Carlos had done, as the walls of the chamber encased him; Cecil couldn't stop the shiver that ran ominously down his spine as it did so, and he suddenly felt extremely exposed, though he was not exactly sure why. A faint beep later, and Cecil was told he could exit.

The security officer handed him back his watch and glasses, which he gratefully placed back on his face, allowing the world to swim back into complete focus. Cecil quickly rejoined Carlos, who waited him near the end of the conveyor belt, Cecil's shoulder bag, parka, and shoes in hand.

"Well that went fast." Carlos said as he handed Cecil his bag and parka. "Which is surprising. I was stuck in security for over three hours once while trying to get from LA to North Carolina for a conference."

"_That _was an invasion of privacy." Cecil mumbled as he slid his feet back into his shoes.

Carlos laughed. "That's how I felt about the Secret Police!" He said. "And they _aren't _an invasion of privacy?"

"Of course not!" Cecil protested.

"The SSP watch me brush my teeth! _Brush my teeth. _I had one officer tell me I'd missed a bicuspid and that they would report me for a mandatory dental visit if I didn't go back and brush again just last week."

"And if they hadn't, you may have developed gingivitis."

"Cecil, they've watched us having sex." Carlos said as they joined hands once more and walked away from security. "I had several random people I didn't even know giving me high fives and knowing looks in the grocery store for a week."

Cecil ignored him. "The Sheriff's Secret Police are there to protect us, dear Carlos." He said. "They're only doing their job."

Carlos shook his head, deciding against trying to convince the broadcaster that the SSP and airport security essentially served the same purpose – the Sheriff's Secret Police he was a bit more inclined to question – even if the procedures and implementations differed. He scanned the area in front of them and pointed to the black sign that hung from the ceiling ahead.

"Our terminal is that way." He said. "We still have about twenty five minutes before our plane boards. Do you want to stop and get a bagel and coffee first? If not, you can always get a snack on the plane, but I can't say I condone the consumption of airline food." He grinned, but Cecil only cocked his head slightly to the side, just as he had back at security, clearly confused by Carlos's attempts at humor. He waved his hand. "Never mind."

Cecil smiled, his purple eyes soft and warm, and he shook his head. "Silly Carlos." He said softly as he pecked Carlos affectionately on the cheek and wrapped his arms around the scientist. "Sometimes you make absolutely no sense."

Out the corner of his eye, Carlos saw an elderly woman about the same age as his _abuela_ staring, her eyes narrowed in obvious disgust. He swallowed the lump at the back of his throat.

_You're going to have to explain it to him eventually, Carlos. _His conscious chided. _It's not fair to keep him in the dark. _

Cecil remained contentedly pressed against his chest for a few seconds more, and Carlos felt his ears begin to burn as a group of teenage boys walked past, sniggering loudly and pointing.

"Hey, check out the fags!" A tall, dark haired boy with multiple piercings in his lips and eyebrows said. His friends guffawed. "Hey, fags! Get a room!"

Carlos's cheeks flushed, and he resisted the urge to pull away from Cecil as though he had burned him. These boys were nothing but attention seeking, juvenile, and crude. He would not allow them the satisfaction of knowing he had managed to get under his skin.

"Yeah! Go fuck each other somewhere else! This is a public place!" The boy at his right, a short, stocky blond, added.

"Don't let them touch you, or you'll catch the gay!" Sneered another.

Cecil pulled away from Carlos's chest, frowning at the boys before he turned his head to look at the furiously blushing Carlos, whose hands were clenched tightly at his sides.

"Carlos, what are those boys saying?" He asked.

"Nothing." Carlos said, a bit curtly as he took Cecil's hand firmly. "They're just looking for attention. Ignore them."

He turned and began to tug Cecil in the other direction when something flew past their heads, narrowly missing clipping Carlos on the cheek as it did so. It fell to the floor in front of them with a clatter, and Carlos realized it was an empty Mountain Dew can. He glared over his shoulder at the boys as he let go of Cecil's hand and stooped to pick it up and dropped it wordlessly in the nearest trash can before he continued on, away from the teens.

"Go jump in front of a bus, queers!" The boys called after them as they walked away. "You'd be doing the world a favor!"

Carlos felt the anger – and, admittedly, humiliation – boiling deep in the pit of his stomach, and he bit his tongue as he and Cecil walked down the hall towards their terminal, leaving the boys behind them. Carlos squeezed Cecil's hand tightly, his teeth clenched, his brow furrowed, and he set his sights on the sign that read '37' in bright red letters at the far end of the way, refusing to make eye contact with anyone that they passed as they wove their way through the crowd, even though he knew a few of them were staring.

_Let them stare. _He thought bitterly. _Don't let them get to you, Carlos. Focus. _

Finally, they reached the terminal, and Carlos immediately honed in on the seats nearest the big bay window, which offered them the chance to not only see the planes as they came and went down the runway, but they were also the seats farthest away from the small crowd of people that were gathered in the waiting area. He let go of Cecil's hand and sat himself down, a bit harder than intended, into a chair, and dug his phone from his pocket to distract himself as Cecil sat down next to him. He couldn't bring himself to look his boyfriend in the eye; the knowledge that he had failed to bring the truth of the world to Cecil's table before allowing him to taste it was too much now that it was impossible to avoid it further.

Cecil chewed his lip as he watched his boyfriend seethe. He had never seen his beloved scientist so angry before, so incredibly red in the face, even when Cecil had accidentally blown up at least half of the experiment on the whispering mushrooms he had found growing in the lab's bathroom between the tiles next to the shower by playing around with a few of the chemicals. (Of course, at that point, after having assessed the damage and cleaned up the mess, Carlos had just been thankful that Cecil hadn't done any further damage, and had escaped with little more than a paper cut.) It worried Cecil, because he wasn't sure, exactly, what was causing Carlos to behave in such a way, but he was fairly certain the impertinent boys back near security probably had something to do with it, though he still wasn't entirely sure what they had meant, nor what the names they had called them alluded to, or why they had thrown a soda can at their heads.

Tentatively, he reached out and placed his hand on Carlos's knee, which seemed to startle the scientist as he finally looked at Cecil, his soft brown eyes blazing.

"Carlos?" Cecil said quietly. "What's the matter?"

Carlos sighed, heavily, and he looked down at the geometric patterns in the carpet.

"Cecil, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about." He said, his usually calm tenor voice cracked and hesitant.

"Go on." Cecil urged. "What's bothering you? Was it what those boys back there said?"

Carlos nodded.

"But why?" Cecil asked. "What _were _they even saying?"

Carlos sighed again, running a hand through his hair.

"Cecil…life…outside of Night Vale is different. _Very _different. There's a reason I was so put off with it when I first came into town…for more reasons than just the scientific."

Cecil nodded. "I understand that Night Vale is different, Carlos. Otherwise it wouldn't be Night Vale." He tried to smile reassuringly, but Carlos's face remained stern, his expression sad, and he shook his head.

"No, Cecil, it's not just that. Here…" He trailed off, leaning forward in his chair, positioning himself on his knees. After a moment, he looked back at Cecil.

"You know I love you, right?" He asked, his voice suddenly filled with urgency.

Cecil blinked. "Of course!" He said. "Why would you ask something like that?"

"Because, if there's one thing you need to know, it's that no matter what, I love you." Carlos reached out and laid his hand on Cecil's. "But…here, there are people who don't get that. There are people here who hate us for who we are, for who we love, for the fact that we're two men in a relationship, even going so far as to encourage others to do the same. In Night Vale, despite all the things that Night Vales _does _care about, like wheat and wheat by-products and illegal pens and not mentioning the Dog Park—" Cecil's eyebrows rose in alarm, and Carlos squeezed his hand in reassurance. "—something that Night Vale _doesn't _care about is the sexual orientation of its citizens. Am I right?"

Cecil nodded, slowly. "I suppose." He said. He cocked an eyebrow. "But I still don't understand."

Carlos struggled for the right words. Growing up surrounded by homophobic dogma and stereotypes and intolerance (on top of the racial prejudices as well), Carlos had become used to the fact that the world did not, as a whole, accept who he was and what he felt, and there were times when he felt that it never would, and he had learned, over time, to accept this fact. This did not mean he was desensitized to the unfair way he was viewed, and treated, as a gay man in a straight society; the emotions that still swam in his stomach, curling around his heart and mind like Cecil's tattoos, were very much a testament to that. He had known that this moment would come, that eventually the unavoidable truth would make itself known, and it would come back to bite him in the ass that he hadn't broached the subject with his boyfriend of his own volition. In Night Vale, the relationship he and Cecil had was _normal. _Of all the things that occurred in the most scientifically interesting city in the world, the fact that they were two gay men in love and in an open relationship was the most normal. And, if he were completely honest with himself, that was the concept that he had had the hardest time wrapping his mind around. Even the polar resonances and earthquakes that defied all sensation and Dog Park that denied all logic were small and explainable compared to the acceptance of his sexuality.

"I don't know that _I _understand it, Cecil, and I grew up with it." Carlos admitted. "But you need to understand that we aren't in Night Vale anymore, and there are going to be times like back at security, and there will be people just like those boys. I wanted to tell you sooner, but…I didn't know how. I'm sorry."

Cecil squeezed his hand tightly.

"No, no, Carlos, you have nothing to be sorry for!" He insisted, his purple eyes earnest. "Nothing at all!"

Carlos sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt like he was going to be sick.

"But I _do, _Cecil, that's the thing." He said. "I can explain so many things to you. I can explain the difference between valence and core electrons, tell you the atomic mass of any of the elements on the periodic table from memory. I can tell you how to conduct an experiment to withdraw all the information needed to construct a complete molecular model. I can tell you proper lab procedures, I can tell you how to gather data and write an analysis, how to apply for a grant. But I can't…I can't tell you _why _people are they way they are. I _can't _explain why people hate us for who we are. I can't break down homophobia into any sort of tangible argument, Cecil, because nothing about it is cohesive, nothing about it makes sense, nothing about it is even remotely explicable." He shook his head and buried is face in his hands. "And I'm so sorry I let you come into this without any sort of idea as to what you could be getting yourself into, being in a relationship with me in a world like this."

Cecil swallowed, and allowed Carlos's words to sink in. He had encountered many things in his thirty-two years. _Many_ things. He had seen so much, said so much, heard so much. He had never been told he was wrong for being attracted to other men, no matter how few others like him there were in Night Vale. He could not remember many things – his father, his mother's favorite color, his brother's height – but he _could _remember that he had only ever been surrounded by people that loved him, cared about him, people that never judged him, despite his eccentricities and penchant for rambling about his personal life over the radio waves.

He couldn't imagine the pain Carlos must have gone through, growing up _here, _where he was told he was _wrong, _that something that made Carlos _Carlos _– beautiful, perfectly imperfect, kind, loving, tender Carlos – was wrong, was something to be ashamed of, was something that he should keep hidden. And why? For what? Because he was romantically interesting in men instead of women? Why was this such an issue? What made it inexcusable? What made it wrong? What made Carlos wrong?

Cecil was unsure what he was supposed to say. He had no idea what to say to soothe his obviously distressed boyfriend, to assure him that he was alright, that he was a fighter, in many senses of the word, and could take anything that Carlos's world had to offer him, even the idea that he was supposed to be ashamed of loving another man – an idea he would rebuke to the outer edges of the void itself. Cecil was a Night Valean, after all, and Night Valeans were born survivors.

"How inconsiderably dull." He said finally.

Carlos looked at him, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"What's dull?"

"The idea that one cannot be in love with someone of the same gender simply because someone else may or may not view it as morally compromising." Cecil said, his voice confident and reassuring as he ran his thumb over Carlos's knuckles.

Carlos shook his head. "Cecil, you don't understand…"

Cecil cut him off. "Are they like that?" He asked suddenly, very softly.

"Who?"

"Your family. Are they…homophobic, too? Is that why you haven't seen them in over a year?"

"Oh." Carlos shook his head. "No, that's not the reason. It's been a conflict of schedules, really. We talk frequently enough, you know that. But to answer your question, no, my family is not nearly as homophobic as the rest of the world, but…"

"But?"

"My father. He…he is, a little." Carlos admitted. "He doesn't really like to talk about it, so we all sort of just ignore it when he's around. We don't mention it, you know?"

Cecil clucked his tongue. "That may be a bit hard this year, dear Carlos."

Carlos chuckled, finally allowing himself to smile, if only a bit.

"He _does _want to meet you." He assured him. "The way I've talked about you, he's at the very least curious. He's just…"

Cecil changed the subject, abruptly, sensing Carlos's unease.

"What about your mother? And your siblings? Are they…_homophobic_—" He says the word awkwardly, half between spitting and trying to refrain from using it all together, as though the word left a strange taste in his mouth. "—too?"

"No, not at all. Mamá is actually really supportive, and accepting. I came out when I was sixteen, and I remember crying when Dad got upset and refused to talk to me, and she just held me and told me that everything was going to be okay, and that she'd love me no matter what, gay or not. Andre and Carmen never had an issue with it. I was their brother, same as always. Nothing ever really changed there."

"Why did your father refuse to talk to you?" Cecil pressed.

Carlos shrugged. "Dad was always…a bit old fashioned. He always expected me and my brother to grow up to be men, to play sports in high school and get married and have kids and carry on the family line. And when I decided I wanted to join the marching band and debate teams and mess around with chemistry sets in my room instead of throw around a football, it was like…his plan was becoming a little skewed. He still loved me, Cecil, and I know he was proud when I got a scholarship to Caltech and everything." He sighed. "But…the night I came out, he got really upset. I mean 'storm away from the table and slam the door upset'_. _He told me that I was ruining my future, because not only was I already a member of a minority, but now I was a sub-minority as screamed at me that I was committing a sin against God and that I would never truly be as happy with another man as I could be with a woman. And he never really apologized for it, either. He just…sort of swept it under the rug, and we never talked about it again. Carried on like it had never happened."

He glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time. They still had ten minutes before their plane would board.

He continued and looked back at Cecil, his brown eyes meeting the other man's purple.

"You need to be aware of this, Cec." Cecil visibly perked up at the use of Carlos's petname for him. "My father is a homophobe, yes. There's no denying that, no getting around to it. And my _abuela, _my grandmother…she doesn't know. We never told her. This will be the first time she's ever been told that I'm gay. She's like my dad: she's very religious, and old fashioned, and there's always the chance that she could take it badly. I don't want you to feel like it's your fault if that happens, okay? Because it's not. It will be mine for having to told her sooner, and I don't want you to feel like you have to be someone that you aren't just to please them."

Cecil nodded. "I understand." He said. "I never planned on being anyone but myself. It's rather hard to be someone else, don't you think?"

Carlos squeezed Cecil's hand.

"Yes." He said. "I'd imagine."

"Besides," Cecil went on, flippantly. "Who are they to judge me – to judge _us – _anyhow? In Night Vale, if there is one thing that we understand and appreciate, it is to live each moment as if it were your last, because who knows? It very well could be." He was using his Radio Voice, and Carlos allowed the velvet syllables wrap around his body like a warm blanket straight from the dryer, relishing in the tingly sensations he felt in his stomach whenever he was near the bubbly radio host. It made him feel safe, protected.

"You're right," he agreed. "But…I'm not so sure they'll be able to see it that way, Cecil."

"Life is far too short to be concerned with who should and should be allowed to be together." Cecil whispered as he leaned across the armrest of the seat to press a kiss to the silver hair at Carlos's temple. "And if they cannot understand that, then I must say that I pity them. What a sad view to have of such a beautiful life."

In a moment of sudden impulsivity, Carlos turned his head, and planted a kiss to Cecil's lips, firm but gentle, and he felt Cecil respond after a second of surprise.

"I love you." Carlos said as he pulled away, smiling at the blond man beside him.

Cecil smiled back at him, and reached out to brush a dark curl from Carlos's caramel colored forehead.

"As long as I have you, dear Carlos, I believe I can handle anything your world has to throw at me." He said. And he meant it.

The speakers overhead dinged, and a tinny female voice informed them in both English and Spanish that their flight was about to board. The two men stood to their feet, gathering their things quickly as they did so, and Carlos laced their fingers together as they neared the reception desk to check their tickets.

"Are you ready?" He said. "It's been a while since you've been on a plane. Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Cecil flicked his wrist.

"We have gravity shifts and floating spells in Night Vale all the time. You know that." He said as the receptionist scanned their tickets and politely told them to enjoy their flight as they walked down the terminal towards the awaiting plane. "How different could it be, really?"


	4. O Holy Solid Ground

**DID YOU HEAR?! DID YOU HEAR?! Carlos is getting a new voice actor, which means...MORE CARLOS IN FUTURE EPISODES! YAY! (This is legit information, confirmed by Jeffery Cranor via his tumblr ("happierman")!) **

**Ahem. Sorry. Fangirl moment. **

**I am currently cocooned in a cozy down comforter in my quiet living room whilst a winter storm rages outside, which is providing copious amounts of inspiration, especially considering something I've had planned from the beginning that is yet to come. ;) FINALLY, exams are over and I'm out for winter break, so I'm looking forward to finishing this by Christmas, if not just after. :)**

**I'd like to point out that I speak VERY LITTLE Spanish (it's most Spanglish), so Google Translate became a comfortable acquaintance of mine during the writing of this chapter. I apologize to any native speakers if it's subpar, or worded wrong; it wouldn't be the first time a translator has betrayed me. ;)**

**CHAPTER SONG: "Carol of the Bells" by Pentatonix **

_**Disclaimer: WTNV is a production of Commonplace Books. It is written by Joseph Fink and produced by Jeffory Crannor. Cecil owns himself. I own nothing. **_

* * *

**It Came Upon a Voidless Clear**

A _Welcome to Night Vale _fanfiction

By doodlegirll

...oOo...

Chapter Four: O Holy Solid Ground 

As it turned out, flying and floating were two _very _distinctive things. And in the end, Cecil got airsick.

Carlos soothingly rubbed Cecil's back as the line of their fellow passengers began to slowly file down the aisle towards the front of the plane. Cecil was curled into a small ball, his long legs drawn as close to his body as the narrow seat would allow, his hideously colored parka wrapped around him like a blanket. His cheek was pressed firmly against the scratchy upholstery of the seat, his eyes closed tightly. Carlos had removed his glasses and tucked them safely into the protective case he carried in his laptop bag, and had slipped the airsickness bag under the seat so that it was out of the way, and wouldn't get trampled as everyone stumbled past.

Cecil moaned, piteously, and Carlos felt his heart break a little bit. He felt bad for the radio host, and he felt even worse that there was little more he could do for him than continue to rub gentle circles into his back and wait for everyone else to exit the plane so they could get Cecil back onto solid ground. He hadn't even thought to pack Dramamine; he hadn't gotten motion sickness in years, since he was a kid, and he certainly hadn't expected Cecil – the most adaptable to changes in altitude alterations and shifts in equilibrium of the two of them – to get sick, either.

"Almost there, Cec." He murmured in Cecil's ear as he smoothed back some of the slightly damp white blond hair from Cecil's forehead. "Just a few more minutes, okay?"

Cecil groaned in reply, refusing to move from his current position any further than he had to, lest he be sick once more. His stomach was still in knots, his intestines on fire, and he could still taste the acrid bile at the back of his throat, despite the water and ginger ale Carlos had been making him drink. The flight had been nearly four and a half hours long, nonstop, and Cecil was certain that it had taken any longer, he would most certainly have died of not only embarrassment, but complete and utter boredom (if the airsickness didn't get him first, which he was certain it would before either of those things could be considered). The few moments of sleep he had managed to catch during the duration of the flight had been fleeting, shallow, and unsatisfying at making the time – and the nausea – go away. Carlos – sweet, gentle, caring Carlos – had tried to keep him as comfortable as possible, even going so far as to place Cecil's headphones over his ears so that the soothing tones of Disparition and other ambient sounds could flood past his eardrums and into his throbbing brain. It helped, just a little.

_Good thing I advised against the airline food._ Carlos thought, trying to make the situation as light as possible as he eyed the last few passengers as they shook hands with the pilot before finally making their exit.

The kind flight attendant that had made sure to keep them well supplied with paper bags and bottles of water smiled as he neared them, a white biohazard bag in his hands. Liam, if Carlos was correct, was his name. The nametag confirmed his suspicions.

"Everyone else has exited the plane." He said quietly. "If you want, I can take those bags for you so you don't have to worry about them."

Carlos nodded, and bent down to retrieve the puke bag from beneath the seat in front of him, glad to be rid of its presence as he dropped it into the bag.

"Thank you." He said as he stood, his legs achy and numb from the long sit. With Cecil as sick as he'd been, Carlos hadn't dared leave his side, even for a momentary trip to the bathroom when the seatbelt signs had been turned off. He gathered his and Cecil's belongings before he bent down and gently shook Cecil's shoulder. His boyfriend moaned at the jarring.

"Come on, Cecil." He said, trying to sound as gentle and soothing as possible. "Everyone's gone. We can get off now."

Cecil moaned again, but his purple eyes opened, blearily, and he shook his head.

"Can't move." He said simply. "I'll be sick again if I do."

"No, you won't." Carlos assured him. "You'll be alright. The sooner we get off the plane, the sooner we can find a convenience store and get you some motion sickness meds, then maybe something in your stomach."

After a moment's hesitation, Cecil nodded, and set his stiff legs on the floor, shakily standing to his feet. He wobbled and nearly fell over, had Carlos not reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Easy, Cecil, easy." Carlos soothed. "I've got you."

Cecil managed a small smile. "Sweet Carlos, you truly are my knight in shining lab coat."

Carlos chuckled as he wound his arm around Cecil's waist, making sure his parka stayed on his shoulders. "Alright there, Casanova." He mumbled. "Let's get you off the plane and then we can talk about who's saving who, okay?"

Slowly, the two made their way forward to the front of the plane, where Carlos managed to shake the hand of the pilot in passing.

"Thanks." He said. "Merry Christmas."

"And to you!" The pilot replied, smiling politely.

Carlos turned to Liam and shook his hand as well.

"You have _no idea _how much we appreciate everything." He said. "Thanks."

Liam offered a squeeze of his hand. "My pleasure."

Carlos felt the cold bit of the fresh New York air as they walked from the plane through the terminal, finally emerging into the crowded hallway of the airport. JFK was always teeming with life, but at Christmastime, the usual number was at least tripled, if not quadrupled, and Carlos was thankful that neither he nor Cecil were claustrophobic. He carefully guided his boyfriend, still slightly green in the face, through the throngs of people, immediately setting his sights on the benches that lined the wall ten feet away. Very gently he lowered Cecil onto it, and sat down next to him, resuming rubbing the broadcaster's back as he put his head between his knees, hands folded on the back of his neck.

"That was mortifying." Cecil grumbled. "Absolutely undignified."

Carlos smirked at his boyfriend's indignation. It was highly probable that Cecil would never again encounter any of the people who had bore witness to his unfortunate bought of vomiting into a paper bag, but he understood his boyfriend's embarrassment. His first trip out of Night Vale in over a decade, and he gets sick in front of dozens of people (the number was actually closer to only 16, which was the number of people Carlos had counted around them that had actually taken notice of Cecil's predicament during the flight, but he still understood the underlying math).

"It's alright." Carlos said as he lightly stroked Cecil's hair lovingly. "We're on the ground again, and you're going to be alright. As soon as we get something in your stomach, you should bounce back from this like you always do."

Cecil's head raised, and Carlos noticed he was squinting at the ground, and he remembered that he still had Cecil's glasses in his bag. He quickly produced them and pressed them into Cecil's palm, and his boyfriend slipped them onto his nose.

"Blessed solid ground." Cecil murmured as he swallowed, and forced a small smile Carlos's way. "If I still didn't feel like I was going to be sick, the possibility of me kissing it would be moderate at least."

"That's unsanitary." Carlos chided, but he smiled anyway. He squeezed Cecil's arm. "Do you want me to go find you something to eat?"

A small flicker of fear flashed behind Cecil's violet eyes, and he shook his head.

"No." He said. "I'd rather come with you."

Carlos nodded; in hindsight, leaving Cecil by himself in the middle of JFK when he had no idea where he was or how anything worked, in a city he had never been to was probably a bad idea.

After a few more minutes, Cecil finally sighed, and sat all the way up. He looked at Carlos.

"I'm ready." He said.

Carlos held out his hand and helped his boyfriend stand. Cecil's grip did not lessen on Carlos's hand as he gathered his parka and bag and the two began the trek down the hall.

Cecil's eyes were wide as he surveyed the strange new world before him, butterflies of anxiety, excitement, and confusion swirling in the pit of his stomach all at once, as well as the after effects of the airsickness. Here he was, just outside of New York City, _with his perfectly imperfect Carlos. _It was an adventure, and it was all his, and while he fought against the raging emotions that battled for dominance. Cecil was naturally observant, and his senses were in overdrive as he soaked up the environment around him. The sounds, the smells, the colors, the energy! Everything about it was invigorating, almost intoxicating. He couldn't wait to tell Dana about it via tape recorder later.

He felt a squeeze on his hand, and he turned his head for find Carlos smiling at him.

"Well?" He asked. "Airsickness aside, what do you think about the world outside of Night Vale?"

"It's _amazing._" Cecil gushed. "Everything about it is so…neat!"

His face flushed in embarrassment, and he suppressed a groan.

_Neat?! Oh, Cecil, you can do better than that… _He thought miserably.

Carlos chuckled.

"I wish I had time to show you the city. My brother, sister, and I always looked forward to trips to Manhattan." He said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "But we need to get on the road. It's a two hour drive to Mamá and Dad's."

Cecil squeezed Carlos's hand. "That's alright." He said. "I think I'd rather meet your parents anyway."

Carlos's face flushed slightly, and Cecil knew it was because he had been so nervous.

"Besides," Carlos said quickly to dispel any thoughts about the subject. "I think Carmen wanted to come out to the city later this week to get some last minute Christmas shopping done, so we could always tag along with her…"

Cecil laid his head against Carlos's shoulder, smiling contentedly. He didn't care what they did, just so long as he was with his Carlos.

Carlos led him down the hall, past the bustling hoards of people crowding through the stores that lined the way, clicking away at their phones, pulling their suitcases behind them. After a few minutes, Carlos pointed to a small restaurant in the distance.

"There's a bagel shop there. They've got _great _homemade cream cheese." He said.

Cecil stifled a laugh. "What is it with you and bagels today?" He asked as his stomach growled at the thought. He quirked an eyebrow. "Are bagels suddenly at the top of the scientific inquiry list?"

Carlos grinned. "Nah," he said. "I've just been craving bagels lately. I haven't had any since the ban on the wheat and wheat by-products."

"You can buy gluten free ones at the Ralph's, you know."

"Yes, I am aware. But they're always rubbery and taste like cardboard." Carlos objected. "Besides, the last time I bought cream cheese, the Faceless Old Woman ate it all before I had a chance to even get a spoonful!"

Cecil shrugged. "She has quite a taste for cheeses, it seems."

"Which is why I try to keep myself well stocked." Carlos agreed. They finally reached the restaurant, and quickly took their place in line. "Besides, we may not be in the city, but there's nothing quite like a New York bagel."

...oOo...

Carlos had been right of course, Cecil admitted as the two of them jostled their suitcases into the back of the tiny rental car: there really wasn't anything quite like a New York bagel, not even a slice from Big Rico's. He had had his fair share of them in his life prior to the wheat and wheat by-products ban, especially considering their convenience, and his alarm clock's penchant for forgetting about cancelled Wednesdays, but _golly _Carlos had been right. While Carlos had stuck to a whole grain bagel with plain cream cheese, Cecil had opted for a cinnamon raisin one with strawberry cream cheese on one half, and pineapple on the other. The combination had been quite eclectic, he had found, and he liked it, even though the lady on the other side of the counter had looked at him as though he had three eyes when he'd placed his order.

He contentedly nibbled on the rest of the bagel as he slid himself inside the warmth of the car. While the air outside was chilly, and the sky was overcast, Cecil had been disappointed to find not a single flake of snow falling from the clouds, or on the ground. Carlos had explained that the airport used special vehicles known as _snowmelters _– which sounded absolutely ominous, in Cecil's opinion, and he hoped that none of them ever gained sentience – to melt away the snow surrounding the runways and parking lots of the airport to allow for safer travel. Carlos had sensed his disappointment, and had promised that he would not be nearly as downcast as they traveled upstate.

Cecil sat the bagel on the dashboard and pulled his arms out of his parka, gently folding it and placing it in the backseat on top of his suitcase. He pulled his phone from his pocket and turned it on, having had to power it down for the flight, finding three missed calls from Dana, and six texts from her and Intern Franz, concerning a pocket dimension opening in the drain of the men's bathroom floor. Dana sounded unconcerned, but the screams of Intern Franz could be heard in the background before Dana finally yelled back, "Franz, _really. _So you lost your pinky toe! You'll grow a new one next week!"

Chuckling, Cecil texted her back and finished his bagel just as Carlos appeared back at the driver's side door, slipping inside and rubbing his hands together.

"Well, that deposit was atrocious." He said as he placed the key in the ignition. "$200 down."

Cecil patted his arm in sympathy.

"At least it's not a tan Corolla." He said, shuddering as he did so.

His comment went unnoticed as Carlos reversed the car and pulled away from the parking lot. As they neared the street that would take them to the expressway, Carlos's phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket, glanced at the screen, and handed it to Cecil.

"It's Carmen." He said. "Could you answer and tell her we're on our way? I don't want to talk and drive."

Cecil took the phone and pressed it to his ear.

"Hellllloooo?" He drawled, unsure of what else to say his boyfriend's sister, of whom he had never spoken to.

"Um, hello?" A bright voice said from the other end of the line, though Cecil could clearly hear her confusion. "This is Carmen? Carlos Ramirez's sister? Iiiiiiiiis he available?"

"Hello, Carmen. He's currently driving, and is thusly indisposed at the moment."

"May I ask with whom I am speaking?" Carmen asked.

"This is Cecil, Carlos's boyfriend."

There was a gasp on the other end of the phone, and Carmen's voice became excited as she stumbled for words.

"Oh my gosh, it's about _time _I get to hear that voice of yours!" She gushed. "As much as Carlos talks about it, you'd think he'd have the decency to send a video or a recording every once in a while."

Cecil smiled. "He talks about my voice?"

Carlos turned his head and raised an eyebrow.

"Only in every email he's sent me since last year!" Carmen said. She digressed. "So you said he's driving at the moment?"

"We just acquired our rental car and Carlos complained about the deposit, and now we're nearing the road." Cecil informed her, a bit of his Radio Voice slipping through as he filled her in on the details. "Carlos said it's about two hours more and we should be there?"

"Oh, good." Carmen said. "Mamá was wondering if she should set two more places at the table for dinner. I hope you like enchiladas."

"I don't think I can say that I've had an enchilada that I did not at least moderately enjoy." Cecil agreed.

There was an incoherent voice speaking behind Carmen, and Carmen's voice became a bit warbled as she obviously removed the phone from her face for a moment. Cecil was sure he heard his and Carlos's names amid what he realized was rapid Spanish, and he silently cursed himself for deciding to take Modified Sumarian in college instead of Spanish.

After a few more seconds, Carmen returned.

"Sorry about that, Cecil." She said. "But Mamá wants to speak with Carlos. Could you put him on for a minute?"

"Of course." Cecil replied. He held the phone out towards Carlos. "She says that your mother wishes to speak with you."

Carlos took the phone and pressed it to his ear.

"_Hola?_" There was a pause, and Cecil felt the familiar, thrilled tingle he got whenever Carlos spoke in Spanish run down his spine. "_Si, estamos en nuestro camino ahora, mamá. Estaremos allí en unas dos horas._" He paused again. "_Si, Mamá, Cecil trajo un abrigo. Lo sabrás cuando lo veas._"

After a few more moments, Carlos smiled. "_Te quiero, también, Mamá. Nos vemos pronto._"

From there, he hit the End Call button, and placed the phone in the cup holder.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love it when you speak Spanish?" Cecil grinned. "Even though I have no idea what you're saying."

Carlos chuckled. "You've told me numerous times, _querido._" He said, affection evident in his voice.

"I do, though!" Cecil insisted. "It's like your voice is made for it!"

"Just as yours was made for radio?" Carlos raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, exactly!" Cecil confirmed. "Not that your voice isn't lovely when you're speaking English, or what little Modified Sumarian I've taught you! It's like caramel and oak."

"I know, you've told me." Carlos said. "And all of Night Vale on the radio. Numerous times. Do you know how long it took for Douglas to stop calling me Professor Oak in the lab after you described my voice that way the first time? _Months, _Cecil, _months. _I finally told him that if he asked me if he could have Eevee as his starter Pokémon one more time, I was going to make him ring the doorbell to the House That Doesn't Exist. That shut him up."

Cecil blinked.

"What's a Pokémon?"

Carlos shook his head. "Never mind." He said. "Just make sure you don't mention it to Carmen; she and I were big fans when we were younger."

Cecil shrugged before he yawned, widely.

"Why don't you try and get a nap in?" Carlos said. "It's going to get dark here soon, so there won't be much to see, and we still have two hours ahead of us." When Cecil opened his mouth to protest, Carlos cut him off. "I'll wake you up before we get there, I promise."

Cecil hesitated a moment before he yawned again.

"I suppose the few moments of sleep I conjured on the plane don't necessarily count as a nap." He mused. "I was, after all, trying to keep my intestines from exiting my body."

Carlos's nose wrinkled.

_Thanks for that image, Cec._ He thought.

Cecil slipped his glasses from his nose and sat them inside the cup holder with Carlos's phone before he pulled his folded parka from the backseat to use as a pillow against the window. He curled up in the passenger seat as best he could, his back to Carlos, fidgeting for a moment to find a comfortable position.

"Care if I put on the radio?" Carlos asked as his boyfriend let out a contented sigh. "If it bothers you, I'll turn it off."

Cecil waved a hand over his shoulder.

"It's fine." He said. "I'm a heavy sleeper."

Carlos laughed and placed a hand on Cecil's shoulder, eliciting a pleased "hmm" from the radio host as he gave him a gentle squeeze.

"I know." He said. "I love you."

"Love you, too, perfect Carlos." Cecil murmured as he slipped further down the slope towards sleep.

Carlos smiled as he retracted his hand back to the steering wheel and switched on the radio. As Cecil's breaths evened out and he began to snore quietly, Carlos allowed himself to relax as familiar Christmas carols drifted through the car, all the while the butterflies in his stomach reminded him that he would soon be his family once more.

He wasn't sure if the butterflies were from excitement, or nervousness.

He settled on both, smiled, and tried to ignore Cecil's snoring as he turned up the radio.

* * *

**Special thanks to JessMust7 for telling me that my Spanish was off in one of the previous chapters. I've corrected it on AO3, but FFN makes it INCREDIBLY difficult to do so, so I'm leaving it for now, but I promise it's better now! :) **


	5. Cecil Got Run Over by the Family

**CARLOS'S NEW VOICE (Dylan Marron) IS PERFECT IN EVERY WAY AND I COULD NOT BE MORE PLEASED HOLY CRAP!**

**Ahem. That being said, I bringeth a new chapter! I apologize for the wait; I had finals, and then I jumped headlong into work, and well...yeah. Time got away. But I'm refusing to allow myself to sleep until I pound out two chapters a night now, so...yeah. This should go well. ;) **

**Google Translate is my new best friend! For those of you who, like me, do not speak Spanish fluently, I've put translations at the end. :) **

**Also, Carmen is probably my new favorite character. She is the kind of mother I hope to be one day! You'll find out more in later chapters. And the kids were a blast to write, too! (I love kids!)**

**CHAPTER SONG: "Alone Together" by Fall Out Boy**

_**Disclaimer: WTNV is a production of Commonplace Books. It is written by Joseph Fink and produced by Jeffrey Cranor. Cecil owns himself. I own nothing. **_

* * *

**It Came Upon a Voidless Clear**

A _Welcome to Night Vale _fanfiction

By doodlegirll

...oOo...

Chapter Five: Cecil Got Run Over by the Family

"Cecil." There was a warm hand on Cecil's shoulder, gently rousing him from sleep. Bright lights shone behind his eyelids, and Cecil squeezed his eyes tightly together, as though doing so would allow him to fall back into the slumber he had been enjoying.

"Cecil." Carlos whispered, shaking Cecil's shoulder again. "Cecil, wake up."

Cecil groaned and swatted at Carlos's hand.

"_Por favor, querido._" Carlos said, shaking harder.

Cecil, realizing acutely that his neck hurt, sighed deeply as he sat up in the seat and stretched, his hands grazing the roof of the car as he did so. His back popped in at least four places, and he squinted against the fluorescent lights overhead as his hazy gaze fell on his boyfriend, his foggy mind still heavy with sleep. He reached out and fumbled around in the cup holder until his fingers grazed the plastic frames of his glasses.

Upon putting them on, there were four things Cecil became aware of immediately.

First, the car was parked and no longer running under an overhang that acted as the source for the bright lights around them.

Second, they were most definitely at a gas station, the name of which Cecil had never heard before. They were parked next to what Cecil realized was pump number four, and the digital screens above the buttons displayed the price ($3.49).

Third, Carlos was smiling at him from the driver's seat as he pulled his arms into his black blazer coat, pulling out a pair of black felt gloves as he slipped his cell phone into one of the pockets.

And fourth, it was _snowing. _

"Carlos," Cecil breathed. "It's snowing!"

Carlos chuckled as he tugged the gloves over his wrists. "I told you."

Cecil's nose pressed against the window in awe, his warm breath fogging the chilled glass of the window as he watched the snowflakes elegantly dance from the dark clouds above towards the earth below, where they rested in laden heaps at the edges of the parking lot. Carlos's heart thudded in his chest fondly at the sight, warmth creeping from the roots of his hair to his toes as he watched his boyfriend – a grown man of thirty two – gaze in a childlike wonder at the snow outside.

"I have to get some gas." He said after a moment, digging through the front pocket of his backpack for a dark green cap, which he situated on his head over his ears snugly. "Otherwise we'll be pushing the car the rest of the way to Mamá and Dad's!"

Cecil turned his attention away from the snow outside and back to Carlos. "How far out are we?"

"About thirty more minutes or so." Carlos said as he extracted a blue scarf from the backpack as well. "But I'm hovering on E, and I don't want to risk it."

Cecil nodded, and Carlos lent across the center console to give him a quick peck on the cheek before he opened the door and climbed out. Cecil returned his attention to the snow, and felt the buzzing excitement underneath his skin. He wasn't even remotely embarrassed by his fascination.

After a few more minutes, Cecil heard Carlos recapping the gas tank, and watched as he walked towards the gas station building. He emerged two minutes later grinning, a plastic bag swinging from his hand.

He opened Cecil's door, and a gush of frigid air hit Cecil like a slap in the face. Carlos reached into the bag and handed Cecil a pair of purple felt gloves, not dissimilar from the ones Carlos wore, and unwound his scarf, slinging it around Cecil's neck.

"Here." He said. "We have a few minutes. Want to experience snow that won't burn you if you touch it?"

"Yes!" Cecil leapt to his feet, wobbling slightly as he came to the very sudden realization that both of his legs were asleep. Luckily Carlos was there, and he grabbed onto the scientist's shoulder to steady himself, smiling sheepishly at his enthusiasm. Carlos's brown eyes were warm and affectionate as he shook his head, but said nothing.

Cecil quickly bustled himself into his parka, zipping it up as he did so, and flipped the hood up over his head. He closed the door behind him and quickly followed Carlos towards the snow. He paused at the edge of it, suddenly nervous.

Carlos, sensing his nervousness, bent down and picked some of the snow up, forming it into a ball and holding it out to Cecil, who hesitantly reached for it, vividly remembering the orange snow that had left him with second degree burns on his palms for two weeks.

The snow was cold and wet as he held it in his hands, and he marveled at the way it molded to his whim, like clay on a spinning wheel. He molded it into a square, and held it up to Carlos, who threw his head back and laughed, grinning proudly at his creation as the melted bits of snow began to seep through the thin fabric of his gloves.

Cecil, still holding the snow cube, slowly stepped forward and lowered his shoe into the snow, which gave a satisfying crunch as he did so, and walked out a few more steps. The snow was considerably deep, coming to his shins, and he suddenly wished he had worn the boots Carlos had bought for him the day he had announced the purchase of their tickets, but they were snugly nestled between his socks and pajamas in his suitcase in the car.

Cecil was so engrossed in the snow around him that he completely missed the snowball as it sailed through the air and struck him in the arm. He whirled around, startled, blinking in confusion as another snowball came his way. Cecil quickly raised his hand and caught it before it could strike him in the head, thankful that his years in the Night Vale Boy Scouts had made him incredibly skilled in hand-eye coordination. He looked towards his assailant to find that it was his very own scientist, a wide smile stretched across his face as he raised his hand to send another snowball hurtling.

"Carlos!" Cecil protested. "Why did you do that?!"

Carlos lowered his arm and walked forward. "It's a snowball fight." He said.

"Couldn't that be dangerous?!" Cecil asked as he dropped the snowball at his feet, suddenly aware that the snow was beginning to seep into his socks, and he shivered.

"Not unless you hurl an iceball or a snowball with a rock in it." Carlos said. "Both of which I have had thrown at me, and it's not pleasant."

Cecil brushed the snow from his sleeve. "I don't understand the premise." He said. "Why would you want to create weapons and warfare out of something so lovely?"

Carlos shrugged. "It's supposed to be fun." He explained. "You're supposed to build forts and barricades and throw snowballs at each other until someone concedes defeat."

The radio host shook his head. "That makes no sense, dearest Carlos." He said.

Carlos sighed. "Never mind, then."

At that moment, Cecil raised his arm and the snow cube at his side suddenly found itself embedded in Carlos's perfect hair, his cap completely knocked from his head. Cecil threw his head back and laughed, heartily, as Carlos brought a hand to his now wet hair, blinking in confusion at his boyfriend.

"That, my perfectly imperfect Carlos, is revenge for this morning's tickling." Cecil said as he walked over to the befuddled scientist, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as he handed him his lost cap.

Carlos laughed. "I guess I deserve that."

Cecil nodded. "Maybe." He said. "All's fair in love and war, yes?"

Carlos pulled his boyfriend forward and kissed his forehead. "Alright, you win this round." He said. "But just you wait until my nephews decide to get in on it! Then you just might have a _real _war on your hands!"

Cecil slipped his hand into Carlos's. "As long as you're on my team, I believe we can take them." He said.

"I wouldn't be so sure." Carlos rubbed the back of his neck. "They're nine. And they're little Mongols. They are incredibly skilled in the art of snow warfare." He shuddered, clearly remembering a Christmas when the twins were six and they had ambushed Carlos and Carmen on their way inside after grocery shopping. It had taken Carlos _hours _to warm up, and three days for his sweater to completely air dry.

The two walked hand-in-hand back to the car, where they both slipped inside and cranked up the heat as high as it would go. Cecil removed his wet gloves and returned Carlos's scarf.

"So are you ready to meet my family?" Carlos asked after a few moments of silence as they started back down the road.

Cecil smiled and nodded. "Yes!" He said enthusiastically.

Carlos smiled. "Good, because I think they're pretty excited to meet you too."

"Even your father?" Cecil couldn't help but ask. While he was extremely excited to meet his beloved Carlos's family, he couldn't help but feel just slightly anxious at the inevitable shaking of the hands with his homophobic father.

"Even Dad." Carlos confirmed. He fell silent for a moment before he reached out and squeezed Cecil's knee. "He's trying, Cecil."

Cecil didn't say anything, instead opting to change the subject.

"So, because I know that small talk is essential to the introduction process, what is it that your parents and your siblings do?"

"Well, my dad was a lawyer before he retired." Carlos said. "He worked mostly with immigration services, seeing as he and my mother were immigrants before becoming citizens back in the seventies. My mother stayed home with us growing up, but before that she worked as a library assistant."

Cecil's eyes widened, and Carlos saw him open his mouth to speak before he cut him off.

"_No, _not like that." He said. "Librarians outside of Night Vale aren't vicious man-eating monsters bent on ensuring the likelihood of timely book returns. They're normal people, like you and me."

_Well…if Cecil qualifies as 'normal'… _He thought as an afterthought.

Cecil nodded after a moment, but his purple eyes remained wide. "What about your siblings?"

"Andre is an accountant, and Carmen is a nurse." Carlos explained. "Andre works in New York City, and Carmen still lives in town, so she's close to my parents, and she works at the local hospital."

"And your grandmother?"

Carlos laughed. "Certified cookie baker and teller of stories." He said. "I think she'll like you. You both have a way with words."

Cecil smiled at that, the thought of him and Carlos's abuela swapping tales pleasing.

"Andre's wife Ashley is an ultrasound tech, and she's currently pregnant with their third child, though they won't tell anybody if it's a girl or a boy."

"Why not?"

Carlos shrugged. "Ashley wants to be surprised." He said.

"There is nothing wrong with a pleasant surprise now and again, Carlos." Cecil said.

"I agree, but dammit, I'm not that patient." Carlos grinned a somewhat crooked grin, and Cecil felt his stomach do a somersault. "Anyway, their twins are Donovan and Cody. Carmen has a little girl, Gracie. She's five."

"Children are fascinating at that age, wouldn't you agree?" Cecil said as he smiled.

"More like absolutely terrifying. Some of the stuff those three can get into…" Carlos shook his head. "You don't want to know."

Cecil was quiet again for a moment. "Do you think they'll like me?"

"What, the kids?" Carlos turned his head to look at his boyfriend, who nodded sheepishly. "They'll _love _you! Kids seem to flock to you like you're made of candy or something. Why else would those mute kids stick around the booth so much?"

Carlos found it mildly interesting that Cecil, his confident, exuberant boyfriend, was not even remotely worried about whether or not the adults of his family would like him, but he was actually moderately concerned with whether or not the kids would be.

_Kids can be cruel, _he reminded himself. _Especially to those who are different. _

And Cecil, his Cecil, with his wiggling, sentient tattoo sleeves, vivid purple eyes, eccentric personality, and a fashion sense that fell somewhere between the Twilight Zone at its worst and Lady Gaga at its best was indeed the epitome of different.

Cecil gave a small smile, and seemed to relax. Carlos, unsure of what else to say, instead reached out and turned on the radio.

"We'll be there in about fifteen minutes." He promised. "And they're going to love you, because I do." He said, a hand finding its way into Cecil's blond hair. "I promise."

"On science?" Cecil asked.

Carlos chuckled. "On science."

...oOo...

Fifteen minutes, seventeen seconds later, Carlos pulled the car onto a stretch of dark road, lit only by the occasional street lamp and the houses that were decorated with lights. Cecil felt the anticipation flutter in his stomach like a hive of bees, and he could barely keep himself from bouncing in his seat as Carlos finally turned into a long driveway, creeping towards a well lit house at the top of a small hill. Cars lined the driveway as they neared, and a dark figure could be seen standing atop a tall ladder, stringing twinkling colored Christmas lights across the gutters of the house. Carlos put the car in park and looked at Cecil, grabbing his hand, his smile luminous but undertoned with worry.

"I love you." He said, quickly pressing a kiss to Cecil's forehead. "Ready?"

Cecil stole a kiss across Carlos's jaw. "I've been ready, dear Carlos."

Carlos squeezed his hand before he let go and reached for the door handle, stepping out into the cool winter air, Cecil not far behind.

No sooner had he shut the door to the driver's seat and reached for the back did Carlos suddenly find himself grabbed from behind, an arm around his neck and a fist buried in his hair as knuckles dug into his scalp. Carlos gave an indignant yelp as his footing stumbled.

"Andre!" He gasped, hands coming up to fight off his brother's attack. "Andre, I can't breathe!"

"Well if it isn't my little brother!" Andre laughed. "Long time, no see, _hermano_!"

Carlos managed to wrestle himself out of his brother's grip, glaring at him for a moment before breaking out into a huge grin.

"A _noogie?!" _He demanded. "Really?! How old are you, twelve?!"

Andre laughed. "At heart." He said, slapping his brother on the back and grabbing him into a hug. "Good to see you!"

"You too." Carlos said, returning his brother's embrace. They pulled apart, and Carlos gestured to Cecil, who had walked around the car, eager to help Carlos had the need arisen. "Andre, this is Cecil. Cecil, this is my older brother, Andre."

"Greetings!" Cecil extended his hand towards Carlos's brother, who grabbed his hand in a firm shake.

"Good to finally meet the ever elusive boyfriend of my little bro!" Andre said, his smile warm and friendly. "I thought we were never going to get a look at you!"

Even in the dull light of the lights from the front porch and strings hanging from the gutters, it was easy to see that Andre shared in his brother's good looks. Andre was taller than Carlos by a good three to four inches, and his hair, the same black curls as Carlos without the grey streaks at the temples, was shorter, and Cecil was suddenly reminded of the treacherous barber Telly and the haircut he had bestowed upon his perfect Carlos's perfect hair over a year before. Andre had the same dark, mocha colored skin as Carlos, and the same brown eyes.

"To be fair, Carlos _is _a busy man." Cecil said, coming to his boyfriend's defense, albeit weakly. "You know, with science and all."

Andre snorted and let go of Cecil's hand. "Tell me about it." He said. "You couldn't pry that kid away from his books and beakers for more than ten minutes at a time growing up. He's always been a bit of a nerd, haven't you, Carlito?"

"Carlito?" Cecil raised an eyebrow, shooting a glance at Carlos, who had flushed red across his cheeks in embarrassment.

"It was what Abuela always called me growing up." Carlos explained. He quickly dropped the subject, grabbing at the handle of the back door and opening it. "Did you get your bags, Cec?"

Cecil nodded, and walked around to the other side of the car, grasping the handle to his plum colored bag tightly.

"Need any help?" Andre offered.

"No, this is all we brought." Carlos said as he hefted his bag from the seat and sat it on the cement. He looked towards the house. "Everyone else inside?"

Andre nodded. "Yeah, Mamá just put the enchiladas in to cook, and Carmen's trying to keep the kids entertained. The boys haven't stopped asking when you were going to be here all day. They've missed their Tío Carlos."

Carlos grinned. "That's because I spoil them rotten."

"No, it's because you indulge in their ingenious evil little plots." Andre countered as the three of them walked towards the front steps. "Like that time you helped them build that giant domino effect thing around the house that ended up setting the curtains on fire."

"It's called a Rube Goldberg Chain Reaction Sequence, and those curtains only smoked, and you know it! I put it out before it could actually catch fire!"

"Mmmhm, and Mamá was just as pissed as she would have been had they actually been set ablaze."

Carlos rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Andre reached for the doorknob, turning to glance at Cecil. "I hope you're prepared for this." He said, trying to sound ominous. "You think my little brother is weird, you're in for it."

"You have _no _idea where he grew up!" Carlos laughed as he reached for Cecil's hand. "Weird doesn't even _begin _to cover it!"

"Way to ruin it, _hermano._" Andre muttered as he opened the door. He raised his hand to his mouth, and yelled, "_Familio, Carlos y Cecil está aquí!" _

There was a flurry of excitement as several voices and bodies flooded into the foyer at once, all of whom headed for Carlos and Cecil, who was still halfway out the door and partially hidden behind the slightly taller frame of his boyfriend. Rapid Spanish floated through the air eagerly like clouds, and Cecil felt his ears glow slightly pink in embarrassment at his inability to understand it.

"Carlito!" A small, plump woman with long salt-and-pepper braided hair pushed her way forward. She wrapped her arms around Carlos's neck as he bent down to embrace her, lifting her off of her feet. "Ah, Carlito, _es tan bueno tenerte en casa por fin_!"

"Hola, Mamá," Carlos said warmly. "_Yo también te extrañé._"

He sat her back down on the ground, and she pulled away, patting him affectionately on the cheek. She peered around him and saw Cecil, and she smiled as she pushed past Carlos to grasp Cecil's hands in her own.

"You must be Cecil!" She said in accented English. Cecil liked the way she pronounced his name like _Cee-saall _instead of the usual _Cee-sull. _"Carlos has told us so much! I'm Maria, Carlos's mamá."

"Nice to meet you!" Cecil said, and he smiled widely. Maria had Carlos's loving brown eyes and friendly disposition, and Cecil liked her _instantly. _"Carlos has had many wonderful things to say of you as well."

"_Tal encantador!_" Maria said, nudging Carlos. "_Y no mal parecido, tampoco!_"

Carlos blushed, and Cecil made a mental not to ask him what she'd said later as a very pregnant red haired woman with shining green eyes stepped forward and held out her hand.

"I'm Ashley, Andre's wife." She said. "So glad you could make it, Cecil."

"Thank you, Ashley. I'm glad that I could!"

"Carmen wasn't kidding when she said you have an amazing voice!" Ashley said as she dropped her hand back to her bulging stomach, rubbing it absentmindedly. "It's wonderful."

"Thank you." Cecil said as Ashley smiled at him. "So I've heard."

A petite woman, no taller than about five foot one, with wavy black hair and piercing blue eyes stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Cecil's midsection, as she only came to the middle of his chest.

"Hi! I'm Carmen. We spoke earlier." She said as she pulled away slightly. "Good to _finally _meet you!"

She cast a scowl over her shoulder at Carlos, who rubbed the back of his neck as he grinned a crooked, embarrassed grin, blushing furiously.

Cecil laughed and returned her embrace.

"Hello again, Carmen. It's good to finally put a face to the name and voice!"

Carmen smiled. "You too!" She said. There was a small crash from the other room, followed by a shrill young girl's voice, and she winced. "And that would be my heathen. You'll meet her soon enough. Please excuse me."

She turned away and walked back into the other room. "Gracie, what have I told you about beating up the boys?!"

Cecil chuckled as he turned his attention towards the next in line, a tall, broad shouldered man with Carmen's blue eyes, and shortly cropped black hair, with thick eyebrows, bushy mustache, and a neatly trimmed facial hair. His face was set in a straight line, showing none of the warmth and welcome that the rest of the family had, and Cecil realized with a start that this must be Carlos's father.

"Name's José." He said, his voice gruff. "Nice to meet you."

Cecil gave the man a short nod as he held out his hand towards Carlos's father, who eyed it for a split second before taking it, as though he were unsure about touching the radio host, despite seeing the rest of his family doing so.

"Good to meet you, José." Cecil said. "I'm Cecil."

"I gathered." José said as he pulled his hand away.

Thankfully, Maria, sensing the tension, stepped in, still smiling.

"Why don't you go put your things away, Carlos?" She said to her son. "You and Cecil will be staying in your old room."

"That sounds like a plan." Carlos said, nodding. He looked at Cecil. "It's just down the hall. Follow me."

He led him into the other room, which turned out to be the living room, a warm fireplace dancing merrily in the center of the far wall, where lights had been draped across the mantle. Pictures adorned the walls and the top of a rather old piano in the corner, and Cecil grinned as he realized that some of them were most likely of Carlos, and knew that these would be worth investigating later.

However, as soon as they emerged in the room, Carlos was suddenly tackled by two small blurs, both of whom cried "_Tío Carlos!_" as they brought the scientist to the floor.

Carlos laughed as he ruffled the two heads of dark red hair that sat square in the middle his chest.

"Tío Carlos, we missed you!" One of the boys said, and Cecil realized with a start that they were identical, save for a faint scar on one of the boy's chins. "We've been waiting _all day _for you to get here!"

"Me too! Me too!" Cried another voice, and a little girl with long, curly dark hair and brown eyes in a purple princess dress bound forward, jumping to the pile on top of Carlos delightedly. She threw her small arms around Carlos's neck as he struggled to sit up with the three children on top of him. "I even beat the boys in a game of checkers waiting for you!"

"Nuh uh, she _cheated_!" The boy with the scar on his chin cried indignantly. "She stole all of our pieces and hid them under Max's bed!"

Carlos chuckled. "I'd say she won, then." He agreed, and the little girl, presumably Gracie, grinned a gap-toothed grin. "Now, as much as I love you guys, I can't breathe!"

The three children quickly scurried off of their uncle, and Carmen laughed from her place in the corner, where she was attempting to assemble some sort of board game involving various bells and whistles.

"I should have warned you." She said. "They've been pretty excited. If I had to hear one more "Where's Tío Carlos?!" one more time, I was going to shave their heads."

Gracie tugged on Carlos's coat sleeve as he stood to his feet, brushing himself off. "Tío Carlos, who is that?" She asked in a loud whisper, looking at Cecil.

Carlos bent down and scooped the little girl into his arms.

"Gracie, boys, this is Cecil." Carlos said, walking over to Cecil, who smiled at the boys as they bashfully hid behind their uncle. "Cecil, these are Andre and Ashley's boys, Donovan," he gestured to the boy with the scar on his chin. "And Cody."

Cecil bent down slightly and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

The boys smiled as they politely said hi and shook his hand.

"And this is Carmen's, Gracie."

"I like your voice!" Gracie said as she reached out and poked Cecil in the arm. "And your eyes are pretty! Purple's my favorite!"

"And your dress is lovely!" Cecil said, and Gracie giggled. "Are you a princess?"

Gracie nodded enthusiastically. "I'm supposed to be Rapunzel, but I lost my hair crown and so I just wear the dress!"

"Well I still think you look beautiful, Princess." Cecil said.

"I like you!" Gracie said as Carlos sat her back on the floor with a chuckle. "You're cool!" She looked back at Carlos. "Tío Carlos, is he your boyfriend?"

"Yes, he is." Carlos said, ruffling Gracie's hair. "So don't get any ideas about trying to steal him there, Princess." He winked at Gracie conspiratorially, and Gracie smiled.

"No promises, Tío Carlos!" She said. "He can be one of my knights!"

"I thought _we _were your knights!" Cody said indignantly.

"You were." Gracie said smoothly. "But I have demoted you to peasant."

Carmen burst out laughing. "That's my girl!" She said proudly. "You tell them!"

"But I don't want to be a peasant! Peasants don't get to have sword fights!" Donovan said, crossing his arms. "And they have to work in the fields all day harvesting potatoes!"

The three children momentarily distracted, Carlos grabbed Cecil's wrist and pulled him towards the hall.

"Quick!" He said. "Before they notice your tattoos!"

Cecil quickly followed his boyfriend down the hall, where Carlos stopped at the second door to the left, opening the door and flipping on the light.

"Well, this is me." He said as he walked inside, Cecil close behind. "Or, teenage me, at least."

The walls were painted a deep red color, and posters of Albert Einstein, Nicola Tesla, and a periodic table of elements were tacked up, as well as a bulletin board. A bookcase filled with books and a few board games – one of which, a battered and old box, read Dungeons and Dragons on the side – as well as a few empty beakers and test tube racks stood at the far wall next to an old desk, which was bare save for a few large textbooks and figurines, next to a chest of drawers with picture frames on the top. A bed, covered in a well worn looking blue and green quilt, was at the center of the room to their left, the foot facing the door. Pictures of various paintings and movie stills were taped to the walls as well, and Cecil chuckled as he recognized one of them as Spock from _Star Trek. _

"Leonard Nimoy always was one of my favorites." Carlos said, noticing Cecil's look. "I tried going as him for Halloween when I was twelve, but got laughed at because I look nothing like him."

"Why not?" Cecil asked as he hoisted his bag up onto the queen sized bed next to Carlos's.

Carlos shrugged. "Not exactly white." He said.

Cecil shook his head. "That shouldn't have stopped you!" He said. "Your skin is _perfect._"

Carlos smiled. "I know, now. But back then I was pretty self conscious about what other people had to say."

Cecil's lips thinned, annoyed. "Children can be cruel, can they not?"

"That they can." Carlos agreed and he unzipped the bag. "We can put our stuff in the drawers there." He nodded over his head at the chest of drawers. "They should still be cleared out, unless Mamá is using them to store blankets and pillowcases."

Cecil nodded, and went to unzip his bag as well when a voice rang out, "Dinner's ready!" from the other room.

"We can unpack later." Carlos said, stopping. He took Cecil's hand. "Come on! I haven't had Mamá's enchiladas in a while, and I haven't eaten since we were at the airport."

Cecil smiled and kissed Carlos softly. "That bagel you craved wasn't very filling, then?" He teased.

"It doesn't hold a candle to Mamá's cooking!" Carlos said as they walked into the hall. "And believe me, if you thought I was right about those bagels, you're really in for it now!"

* * *

**-hermano: "brother"**  
**-Familio, Carlos y Cecil está aquí: "Family, Carlos and Cecil are here!"**  
**-es tan bueno tenerte en casa por fin: "It's so good to have you home at last!"**  
**-Yo también te extrañé: "I missed you too."**  
**-Tal encantador!: "What a charmer!"**  
**-Y no mal parecido, tampoco: "And not bad looking, either!"**


	6. You're a Mean One, Mr Ramirez

**I hope everyone's Christmas was as wonderful and joyous as mine was, and I apologize for not having this chapter up sooner. I've been working on it in my fleeting moments of spare time over the past few days, and it's finally finished.**

**This chapter is mostly filler, with some family dynamics thrown in for good measure, as well as some Cecilos cuddles, Carmen and Cecil bonding, tattoos, and awkward chitchats. But, it's important in the way that Cecil and Jose have a little one-on-one, and we kind of get to know Jose a little better in terms of character (spoiler: he's a grumpy gills). Also, unabashed fluff. It's so sweet it'll give you cavities. **

**Oh, and I gave Carlos tattoos, because I really like the headcanon that he has science-y/geeky tattoos. Love it.**

**Carry on! :D The next chapter is in the works, and it will be fabulous. :)**

**CHAPTER SONG: "Best I Ever Had" by Gavin McGraw**

_**Disclaimer: WTNV is a production of Commonplace Books. It is written by Joseph Fink and produced by Jeffrey Cranor. Cecil owns himself. I own nothing. **_

* * *

**It Came Upon a Voidless Clear**

A _Welcome to Night Vale _fanfiction

By doodlegirll

...oOo...

Chapter Six: You're a Mean One, Mr. Ramirez

Maria's enchiladas were very quickly becoming Cecil's favorite food _ever. _Every bite was as delightful as the last, the cheese was perfectly stringy without being scalding hot, and the peppers she had added on top added a bit of spice. It wasn't hard to see where Carlos had gotten his cooking skills from.

The adults had crowded themselves around the smallish oval shaped table in the dining room off to the left of the kitchen, while the kids had been given the coffee table in the living room to eat at. Several side dishes had been placed along the middle, including mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli (which Donovan and Cody refused to touch, though Gracie had heaped her plate full delightedly), as well as homemade guacamole and some sort of desert involving pink marshmallows and Jell-O that Cecil had never seen before, but reminded him of the Glow Cloud for some odd reason (maybe it was its fluffiness, or perhaps the Glow Cloud had unconsciously instilled in him an apprehension towards marshmallows; Cecil couldn't be entirely sure).

Conversation had started out with asking Carlos how his research was going in Night Vale, and how he had adjusted to life there. Carlos had told everyone of his adventures, though Cecil noted that they had been diluted to exclude the more dangerous and anxiety-provoking bits such as the time the toaster oven in the lab had come to life and tried to eat Carlos and his team of fellow scientists. Cecil allowed this to slide; he could understand Carlos's reasons for leaving parts of Night Vale to himself, though he wasn't sure how well he could hide it for very much longer.

Eventually, however, attention had been turned to Cecil.

"So, Cecil." Andre said as he spooned his second helping of mashed potatoes onto his plate. "Carlos tells us you're a radio host?"

Cecil nodded. "Yes." He replied.

"How long have you been doing that?" Maria asked.

"I've been the Voice of Night Vale for oh, about eight years now? I interned at the station as a teenager, and throughout college. It was prophesized that I would take over as the Voice from the time I was a child."

He noticed that Carlos's parents stopped chewing momentarily as he said the word "prophesized", and he wondered for a moment if he had said the wrong thing.

"Of course, being the Voice was all I ever wanted to do." He added quickly, though smoothly. "I used to carry around an old tape recorder when I was younger and practice my broadcasting."

He saw Carlos wince slightly out the corner of his eye, and he, too, remembered vividly the finding of the cassette tape that had brought so much of his past to light. He was still filling in many of the pieces, but several memories had resurfaced not long after the discovery, including his brother's name (but not his face), and his internship at the station, though several holes remained.

José raised an eyebrow. "Not a very high paying job, is it?" He asked.

Carlos opened his mouth to defend Cecil, but Cecil beat him to it with a smile and a wave of his hand.

"I'm in it for the journalism, not the glamour." He said. "Radio is a very specific medium, and I enjoy it."

"Well, you know what they say!" Carmen piped as she sat down her glass of water. "Find a job you love and you'll never work a day in your life!"

José shook his head, but he said nothing more as he continued on eating.

"So, Cecil, do you have a family back in Night Vale?" Maria pressed.

A sad smile graced Cecil's features, and he felt his heart twinge slightly.

"No," he said. "I don't have any family in Night Vale, save for the odd cousin and my aunt Valerie that I get a card from every Street Cleaning Day."

"What about your parents?" Ashley quipped. "Any siblings?"

Again the knot returned to the back of Cecil's throat, and he swallowed.

"My mother…disappeared when I was fifteen. My brother, too. I…I don't know what became of them."

"_Que triste!" _Maria said, shaking her head.

"So they just _left _you?" Carmen asked, her blue eyes wide. "To fend for yourself? At _fifteen_?!"

Cecil shrugged. "I suppose." He said. "Of course, there's always the possibility that they were kidnapped, or taken by the Sheriff's Secret Police, or corporeally absorbed into the void. But who can tell, really? Besides," He dabbed at his sleeve with his napkin. "Night Vale is small, and everyone knows one another. I was always surrounded by people that cared for me. Night Vale is my family."

_And Carlos, now. _He added to himself, casting a glance at José uneasily.

Carmen shook her head. "It's absolutely absurd that they _just left you_!" She said. She lent across the table and winked. "Good thing you've got us now, then."

Cecil smiled, the knotted pit in his stomach replaced with warmth, as though a hole were being filled. Murmurs of agreement sounded from around the table, and Cecil felt Carlos squeeze his knee beneath the table.

The rest of dinner went smoothly, and Cecil stood to help Carmen with the dishes. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, and he saw José staring at his tattoos from the corner of his eye, seemingly disapprovingly. Cecil was not ashamed of his tattoos; in fact, he was extremely fond of them and the symbiotic relationship they had, but suddenly he found himself incredibly self conscious about the intricate tentacles and occasional eye, and he was thankful that they hadn't moved so much as a nanometer since passing over the Night Vale city limits. The last thing he wanted was Carlos's father – who had thus far not seemed particularly friendly – to think he was dangerous, and anomalous in any way.

Carmen, however, caught wind of her father's stares, and nodded in approval as she surveyed the tattoos.

"Gnarly tattoos!" She said as Cecil handed her a plate from the soapy water to dry and place on the rack. "Are they octopus tentacles?"

"Cthulu, actually." Cecil said, though it was only partially the truth; in reality, he wasn't entirely sure _what _his tattoos were, exactly, only that they were sentient and were sometimes proned to hissy fits during which they refused to stop tickling him until he complied to their demands, which was usually a bubble bath with lavender oil and a few Epsom salts for flavor. "I got them when I was fifteen, shortly after my mother and brother…left."

"I think they're awesome." Carmen said, nodding again. "I have angel wings on my shoulder blades, and a cross on my left foot. Are they just sleeves?"

Cecil shook his head. "They extend onto my shoulders and back." He said.

"Even more awesome." Carmen concluded. She threw her head slightly over her shoulder at her father, who had retreated into the living room with the rest of the family and was smiling as he conversed with Carlos. "Don't let him bother you. He's a bit of a stickler. He freaked out the day I came home with the cross on my foot when I was seventeen. Nearly blew a gasket. Thought he was going to kill me right then and there. I don't think Carlos has ever told him about his."

Cecil smiled briefly, his memory fleeting to the tattoo that adorned Carlos's left shoulderblade: a complex line of amino acids that literally translated to "I am starstuff," as well as a more simple one above Carlos's right hip that was the molecular model of serotonin. He swallowed. "He doesn't seem to care for me much." He admitted quietly.

"Nah, it's not that." Carmen said. "I've only known you a grand total of around two hours and I can honestly say you're quickly becoming one of my favorite people, and I can be a bit picky sometimes. Dad's just a product of his time is all; he's hard to please, and honestly, he's never been exactly…comfortable with Carlos being into other men."

"Carlos warned me." Cecil said, nodding. "At the airport after a rather unfortunate incident involving a group of unruly teenagers and rather raunchy language that I'm sure their mothers would be absolutely appalled by."

Carmen's nose wrinkled, and she took the forks Cecil handed her and set them inside a cup to dry.

"Kids suck sometimes." She said. "But especially those of the teenage breed."

Cecil smiled. "I suppose so."

"Anyway, don't let Dad get you down!" She continued. "It's not that he doesn't _like _you, it's just that he isn't quite sure what to make of you yet. And quite frankly, he's always been a bit protective of Carlos, even though I was the baby and the only girl. I think he just worries about Carlos a bit more than me or Andre." She shrugged.

"Why is that?"

"Well, it's like I said, kids suck. Carlos was made fun of as a teenager quite a bit for being gay, and I think that scared Dad a bit. No one wants their kid to be made into a victim, you know?"

Cecil nodded, and then he grinned. "I don't believe you'll ever have that problem with Gracie."

Carmen laughed. "Are you kidding me?! That child is an evil genius. I don't worry about her at all. I pity the little idiot that gets on her bad side. She's got too much of me in her." She smiled proudly before she shook her head and patted Cecil on the arm. "Anyway, don't let Dad bother you. He'll come around."

"I certainly hope so." Cecil concluded as he finished with the last dish and dried off his hands, rolling his sleeves back down.

"Anyway, come on. I think the kids want to watch Rudolph!" Carmen said as she waved her hand, walking towards the living room. "And I think that calls for some caroling."

...oOo...

Later that night, after several rounds of singing carols that Cecil had learned rather quickly and a quick recording on his tape recorder recounting the days adventures for Dana, he found himself snuggled into a cozy cocoon of blankets – four, to be precise – in the bed in Carlos's old room, waiting for his boyfriend to return from the bathroom down the hall, where he was brushing his teeth. Carlos had lent him a pair of his sweatpants and one of his old flannels to wear when Cecil's usual silk pajamas proved to be too thin for the Upstate New York chill, despite the mountain of blankets Carlos had provided him with. The flannel smelled faintly of Carlos's cologne, and Cecil smiled as he closed his eyes and gave a contented sigh.

A few minutes later, the door to the room clicked closed, and the bed shifted as Carlos climbed under the covers, putting his arms around Cecil and pulling him close, kissing the back of his neck as he nuzzled his nose into Cecil's white-blond hair. Cecil gave a pleased "hmm" as he pressed against his boyfriend, relishing in the warm feeling of his body pressed against his back and the arms holding him close.

"Well, you survived not only flying but also meeting my family." Carlos said as their legs intertwined. "All in all, I'd consider this day a success."

"Hmm." Cecil agreed. "Me, too. Your family is wonderful."

"Told you they'd love you." Carlos gave his boyfriend a gentle nudge against Cecil's shoulder with his head. "The kids especially."

"The kids are lovely." Cecil smiled. "Especially little Gracie. She has a bright future ahead of her."

Carlos chuckled. "I agree. She's intelligent, that's for sure."

They were silent for a moment, relishing in the moment together, snuggled close, their breathing slowly evening out.

After Carlos let out a sigh and buried his face in the nape of Cecil's neck, signifying he wasn't far from sleep, Cecil finally spoke.

"Carlos?" He whispered in the dark.

"Hm?" Carlos grunted softly in response.

"I don't think your father likes me all that well."

Carlos sighed, his breath tickling Cecil's ears.

"It'll be alright." Carlos said sleepily. "I promise he'll come around."

Cecil turned over so that he was face to face with Carlos, who blinked at him blearily in the dark, the only light coming from the string of lights around the gutters outside through the blinds.

"He didn't have much to say to me today, and he seemed rather quick to judge my choice of careers."

"He's hard to please, Cec." Carlos said as he pressed a kiss to the skin between Cecil's eyebrows. "Bit of a pessimist, too."

"That's what Carmen said when we were washing dishes, but…" He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. "I'm rather concerned about this, Carlos."

"Don't be." Carlos whispered. "I told you he's uncomfortable talking about my being gay, and with you here it's hard to just ignore it like he has for so long. But he'll come around, eventually. I promise on science."

Cecil smiled, and pressed his forehead to Carlos's.

"I love you." He said.

"Love you, too, Cec." Carlos mumbled as his eyelids fluttered shut. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow's a new day."

Cecil yawned, and found that he was unable to argue the point any longer, not when he was so warm with Carlos there to keep out the winter chill. So instead he cuddled closer to the scientist, wrapping his arms around him and tucking his head under Carlos's chin.

"Goodnight, my Carlos." He whispered, pressing a kiss to Carlos's collarbone as his boyfriend drifted to sleep. "Goodnight."

...oOo...

Early the next morning, Cecil awoke to the sound of his phone buzzing on the bedside table beside him. Groggily he reached a hand out from underneath the warm nest of blankets into the considerably chillier air of Carlos's childhood bedroom and grabbed the vibrating piece of technology, bringing it close to his face to see without his glasses, which lay neatly folded next to Carlos's on the table.

He was met with a text from Dana, which turned out to be a link to a cute cat video on YouTube. Cecil groaned and sat the phone back down, remembering that time didn't work in Night Vale as it did outside its borders, and he wondered, vaguely, what time it was there.

He yawned as he sat up in the bed and stretched out his arms. He glanced down at the still sleeping form of Carlos in the bed next to him. Carlos had flipped onto his stomach sometime during the night, one arm slung lazily over Cecil. Cecil smiled softly as he reached out a hand to caress the curls of hair that fell across the scientist's face. Carlos looked so much younger than his thirty years when he slept, Cecil mused. Much too young to be graying at the temples, no matter how dignified it made him appear.

Very carefully, Cecil extracted himself from the cozy cocoon, and set his feet down on the cool plush carpet, noticing that his left sock was missing, and he wondered if Carlos's parents had Sock Trolls, too. He spied it dangling out from underneath one of the blankets at the foot, and he snatched it, quickly putting his foot back inside before tiptoeing to the door.

He padded quietly down the hall towards the kitchen, where he had spied a coffee maker the night before, and prayed that Carlos's parents kept a steady stock of coffee on hand. He ran a hand through his mussed blond hair and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

As he emerged into the kitchen, he was slightly taken aback to find that another person was not only awake, but had also beat him to the coffee maker at the counter. It took him a few moments to realize it was José.

José gave him a nod and raised his coffee mug slightly in greeting.

"Morning." He said.

"Good morning." Cecil replied, suddenly overcome with nervousness. Usually he was so composed, so able to overcome this feeling of apprehension, but Carlos's father had found some way to counter his bravado.

"If you want any coffee, help yourself." José said as he finished what was left in his mug and deposited it into the sink, running water into it. "I'm done."

"Thank you, that would be lovely." Cecil said as he made his way over. His eyes flicked towards the drying rack of the sink, hoping to find a spare mug nestled there, but was met without success.

José must have noticed this, for he reached into a cabinet to the right of Cecil's head and pulled a white mug with the Yankees logo on it and handed it to Cecil.

"Here." He said.

"Thank you." Cecil reached out and took the cup from José, who turned away from him.

José grunted in reply, and Cecil supposed he could take it as a "you're welcome" if ever there were one.

Cecil poured himself a cup from the maker, and easily found the bowl of sugar cubes next to it, and creamer. He added copious amounts of both – Carlos affectionately referred to his sweetening habits as "Diabetes in a Cup" – before wrapping his fingers around the mug, inhaling the pleasant aroma before bringing it to his lips.

He eyed José over the rim of the cup, and wondered if he should try small talk with the man. José had sat himself down at the dining table, his legs crossed, a newspaper positioned on his knee. Cecil found himself musing that Carlos shared several mannerisms with his father, especially the way they licked the tips of their fingers before turning the pages, and the way they nodded their heads slightly as they read, as though affirming the author's words and thoughts as valid.

He was so lost in thought he didn't notice that José had noticed his thoughtful gaze, and furrowed his eyebrows.

"It's rude to stare." He said gruffly.

"Oh, goodness, I'm sorry!" Cecil sputtered. "I wasn't meaning to! I was lost in thought and I guess I didn't notice!"

José raised an eyebrow. "Bit airheaded, are you boy?"

"Not usually, I promise." Cecil said, unsure whether or not José was being serious, or joking. From the stern line his lips made, Cecil was fairly certain he was being serious.

José gave a small "hmm," eyeing Cecil in a way that made the broadcaster squirm just slightly.

"Night Vale as unusual as you?" He said finally.

Cecil blinked. "Sorry?"

"That town you're from. Is it is as unusual as you?" José repeated.

"Oh. Well, no, Night Vale isn't all that unusual. Not to me, at least, but I grew up there. To someone like you, or Carlos, yes, it is probably as extravagantly different as your world is to me." Cecil said, choosing his words carefully. "Carlos has adjusted quite nicely."

"I can tell." José said tersely, and Cecil wondered if he had said something wrong.

"He had a hard time, at first." Cecil pressed onwards, hoping to skew the topic more towards something comfortable. "He was convinced everything was malicious, and dangerous, and potentially life-threatening. But then he…" He stopped himself from saying anything about the Tiny City Beneath Lane 5, because he wasn't sure if Carlos had said anything to any of his family about it. "He got used to it all, and I'd say he's grown to like it."

José said nothing for a minute, continuing to eye Cecil.

"I'd say you probably had something to do with that," he said finally. He slowly rose to his feet and shuffled towards the door without another word.

Cecil watched him leave, stricken, unsure how to proceed. He swallowed thickly and glanced down at the coffee mug in his hands, and noticed that it had gone lukewarm.

It was no secret that he wanted José to like him. He was, after all, Carlos's father, and he was just as much a part of Carlos's life as Cecil was. Cecil wanted badly to prove to the man that there was absolutely _nothing _wrong with Carlos's homosexuality, and that he loved the scientist more than life.

Sighing, he dumped the last of his coffee into the sink, unwilling to even pop it into the microwave for a few seconds. He found he was suddenly without a need for caffeine.

Instead, he made his way back down the hallway towards Carlos's room, where he found his boyfriend still sleeping peacefully. Cecil quietly walked to the chest of drawers and pulled from it his toiletry bag, and a change of clothes; nothing fancy, just a pair of his well worn purple jeans, an undershirt, and a red sweater Old Woman Josie had knitted for him some years ago with an unassuming cactus with mittens on its two arms. He pressed a gentle kiss to Carlos's forehead before he slipped from the room and headed towards the little bathroom at the end of the hall.

Maybe a shower would clear his mind.

...oOo...

Fifteen minutes later, Cecil emerged perfectly groomed from the bathroom, his blond hair washed, dried, and styled to his liking, his teeth brushed, smelling faintly like his lilac body wash. He had folded his pajamas neatly and deposited them back in the chest of drawers before passing the still sleeping Carlos to head back into the kitchen.

The pleasant aroma of bacon sizzling wafted from the stove as Cecil entered, and his stomach growled. Maria stood in front of the stove, an apron tied around her waist. She heard Cecil enter, and she turned and smiled at him.

"_Buenos dias, _Cecil!" She said cheerfully. "Did you sleep well?"

Cecil nodded. "Marvelously, thank you." He said.

"I hoped that you would." Maria said as she turned back to turn the bacon in the skillet. "You must have been exhausted, after your trip yesterday."

Cecil smiled and flicked his wrist. "Nothing out of the usual." He assured her. "Do you need any help?"

Maria shook her head. "No, _gracias, cariño._" She said, and Cecil smiled softly when he recognized the Spanish word for 'sweetheart.' "I'm almost done. But, if you want, could you go and wake Carlos up? Andre and Ashley are already awake and in Carmen's old room, across the hall from the bathroom. They're waking the boys now, and Carmen will be by later with Gracie, and José is out back. He wants to take Andre and Carlos to get a tree today, and I have choir practice at the church at eleven."

"That is quite a day." Cecil commented.

Maria laughed, heartily, and Cecil felt the warmth radiating from her from his place across the room. He was liking Carlos's mother more and more.

"_Sí, _it's busy." She agreed. "But it's Christmas, and Christmas is always a bit busy." She scooped some of the bacon out of the pan with a spatula and sat it on a plate next to the stove. She glanced over her shoulder. "Is Carlos still hard to get up in the morning?"

Cecil chuckled. "Some days." He admitted, and he realized with a start that Maria was asking him, very openly, about the fact that he and Carlos shared a bed, and he blushed slightly. "He can be rather tetchy in the morning on occasion, but he is usually easy to rouse."

Maria tsked and shook her head.

"He has always had a problem getting enough sleep, that boy." She said. "I used to catch him up at one in the morning on school nights reading by flashlight under his blankets!"

"Nowadays it's usually because he's working on science, but he's getting better at developing a semi-normal sleeping pattern." Cecil defended, deciding against including the fact that time practically did not exist in Night Vale. He fingered the watch on his wrist unconsciously at the thought, smiling softly.

"You are good for him, then." Maria said, and Cecil's blush deepened. "But I have known that since he first mentioned you. Carlos has always been a serious and quiet child, and I have never seen him smile like the way he does when he's with you, not in a long time. He's happier." She sat down her spatula and reached out to take Cecil's hand in hers, squeezing it. "Thank you for that. For making Carlos happy."

Cecil squeezed her hand back, the warmth and kindness from Maria's words spreading to his heart, making it flutter pleasantly against his ribcage. "It's my pleasure." He said. "He makes me happy, too."

Maria smiled again, and patted Cecil's cheek.

"I know." She said. "Now, go and wake him up, _por favor._ Breakfast is almost ready, and if he wants to go with José, he'll have about an hour to get ready."

Cecil nodded and turned, leaving the kitchen behind him. As he did, he couldn't contain the smile that broke across his face, and he felt lighter than air, unabashedly pleased.

So perhaps José would be harder to convince. At least Maria approved of him.

He did an excited spin as he entered the room, and all but danced to the edge of the bed on Carlos's side, where his foot suddenly got caught in one of the blankets that Carlos had kicked off haphazardly in the night, and he crashed, unceremoniously, onto the bed, right on top of Carlos.

Carlos gave a yelp of surprise as he was jolted awake with a cry of "_mierda!"_, and he sat up quickly, breathing fast as he reached and grabbed his glasses from the bedside table, slipping them on to gaze at his boyfriend, who lay spread-eagle across the bed. Cecil grinned sheepishly at him.

"Sorry." He apologized. "I tripped."

Carlos shook his head. "You startled me is all." He said. He leant down and pressed a kiss to Cecil's lips. "Morning."

"Good morning." Cecil said, still grinning. "Your mother asked me to wake you. She's making breakfast."

Carlos removed his glasses and rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye before running a hand through his perfect hair, yawning.

"Mells lie 'acon." He said as he yawned.

Cecil sighed. "Carlos, we've been through this. You know I don't speak Yawnese."

"Smells like bacon." Carlos said as the yawn passed.

Cecil nodded. "Indeed. I've no doubt it will taste as delicious as it smells."

"Any bacon is good." His boyfriend said, before considering his previous statement. "Except that unicorn bacon you made me try. That…that wasn't good."

Cecil pouted. "I _know _burned it a little, but it wasn't _that _terrible!"

"Cecil, it tasted like cardboard wrapped in tinfoil. The texture was like burlap."

"Well of course it did! That's what the flavor of a unicorn is!"

His scientist boyfriend shook his head. "Cecil, I couldn't chew the damn stuff! It is _not _digestible!" He pulled back the covers and sat his feet on the floor, standing and helping his boyfriend do the same. "I did some experiments on it. I tried dissolving it in hydrofluoric acid and it didn't even fizzle! _Hydrofluoric acid, _Cecil, wouldn't break down the stuff."

Cecil rolled his eyes endearingly. "Dearest Carlos, food is not meant to be scientifically understood."

"I am inclined to disagree." Carlos said grumpily as he tugged a red sweatshirt over his head before. "But I'm far too tired and hungry to argue about it right now."

Cecil's stomach growled in agreement.

"Oh!" He said, suddenly remembering the other half of Maria's message. "Your father wishes to procure a Christmas tree today and would like you to partake in the festivity. Maria said that you have an hour to get ready."

Carlos groaned and flopped backwards back onto the bed in a heap.

"And watch, I'll bet Andre uses all the hot water." He mumbled into his hands as he ran them over his face.

Cecil flopped down beside him. After a few moments of silence, he said, "I spoke with your father this morning."

Carlos's hands lowered and he propped himself up on his elbow, his brown eyes brimmed with worry at Cecil's low and contemplative tone of voice.

"And…?"

Cecil shrugged, turning his head to look at Carlos. "Not much was said." He said. "Though he _did _ask me if Night Vale was as strange as I am, to which I replied absolutely not! I found that question rather…"

"Insulting?"

Cecil shook his head. "Confusing." He concluded. "I explained that Night Vale was as normal to me as this world is to you, and that you'd adapted fairly well. He said he believes I had something to do with that before he walked off."

Carlos sighed, unsure whether he could classify his father's actions as progress or digression.

"He's a bit cantankerous in the morning, I take it?" Cecil asked. "Like a certain scientist is on occasion?"

Carlos laughed and he reached out a hand to pull Cecil closer. "I guess you've got me there. Like father, like son."

Cecil kissed the tip of his nose. "I still love you."

Carlos grinned. "Good to know."

They heaved themselves off of the bed and walked, hand in hand, into the hallway. Cecil smiled coyly as they closed the door behind them.

"Now, about that unicorn bacon…"

* * *

**Carlos's "I am starstuff" tattoo is totally awesome. Google it. Please. **

**- que triste: "how sad"  
- buenos dias: "good morning"  
****- mierda: "shit!" or "holy shit!"**


	7. Hark! The Gingerbread Explode!

**I apologize for the wait! My best friend Sophie was in town for New Year's for six days, so she got my attention for the duration of her stay. She was, however, able to sit down and help me pound out a few key points, as well as help me get the, er...mishap in this chapter to be accurately portrayed. (Hint: she's a chemist!) Anyway, I made up for it by making this chapter super long! (As in, 14 pages single space, size 12 Times New Roman in Word LONG!) **

**I had some fun with this chapter, and the next chapter will be no different, but I must warn thee: the next chapter will be a bit angsty, and could - COULD - end with a cliffhanger! I've finally reached the climax of the story, and it's going to be a doozy, guys, so be prepared. :) **

**Anyway, enjoy!**

**CHAPTER SONG: "Why So Serious?" by SHINee (Blame Sophie.)**

_**Disclaimer: WTNV is a production of Commonplace Books. It is written by Joseph Fink and produced by Jeffrey Cranor. Cecil owns himself. I own nothing. **_

* * *

**It Came Upon a Voidless Clear**

A _Welcome to Night Vale _fanfiction

By doodlegirll

...oOo...

Chapter Seven: Hark! The Gingerbread Explode!

An hour later, after a delicious breakfast of bacon, eggs, and homemade biscuits, Carlos made a mad dash into the bathroom to grab a shower before he, José, and Andre left for Christmas tree hunting, almost forgetting to comb his hair and put on his left sock in his rush had Cecil not reminded him that any socks left unattended could fall victim to the sock trolls. Carlos didn't have time to explain that sock trolls didn't exist anywhere outside of Night Vale before he gave Cecil a kiss and stumbled out the door behind his father and brother. Cecil waved from the front porch, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand, before retreating back into the warmth of the home.

Cecil had just finished his cup of coffee and had washed the mug when the front door opened, and Carmen's voice called out a hello.

"In the kitchen!" Cecil called out, drying his hands on a towel hanging from the stove door's handle.

A moment later, Gracie came bounding into the kitchen and threw her arms around Cecil's legs.

"Ceesaw!" She said. "You're still here!"

Cecil chuckled at the child's pronunciation of his name as he patted her on the head. Carmen came into the room, a smile on her face as she hung her coat from the hook next to the door.

"I can't seem to get it through that thick skull of hers that your name is not a piece of playground equipment, but she's adamant in her conviction." She said, shaking her head.

"I have been called many names in my life, but I do not believe hers is the absolute worst." Cecil said with a grin.

At that moment, what appeared to be a large, fluffy bear came padding into the room. It surveyed the room for a moment before it made a beeline for Cecil, sauntering up to him as Gracie let go and placed its enormous paws on his shoulders before covering his face with slobber. Cecil gave a yelp of surprise and pressed his palms against the chest of the beast as it continued to try and consume his face.

"Max, no!" Carmen said as she rushed to his aid, grabbing the creature by the red collar around its neck, pulling it off of Cecil, who stood stock still, unsure how to react. "Bad dog!"

Cecil reached for the towel on the stove, wiping his face with it.

"I am _so sorry_!" Carmen said. "He's usually doesn't do that…I'd introduce the two of you, but I think he's already done that. This is my dog, Max. Max, this is Cecil, Carlos's boyfriend. You're not to eat him."

"_Dog?!_" He demanded as Carmen commanded the beast to sit. "That is most certainly _not a dog_!" He said.

"Yes he is!" Gracie piped. "He's a Newfie!"

"Newfoundland." Carmen confirmed. "He looks imposing but he's really just a big teddy bear, aren't you boy?" She gave the dog a pat on the head, and he wagged his tail in response.

Cecil wiped the last bit of drool from his face and eyed the dog suspiciously while he rinsed out the slobber-soaked towel in the sink.

"Are you absolutely certain? Because in my experience, teddy bears can be quite the formidable opponent, not to mention intrusions of privacy."

Carmen laughed. "I promise, he's friendly. Wouldn't hurt a fly."

Cecil tentatively reached out a hand, palm out so as not to invoke the creature, and allowed Max to sniff at it. After a second, Max's thick tongue lapped at Cecil's hand gently, and Cecil suppressed a giggle. It tickled!

"See? Wouldn't hurt a fly." Carmen said as she let go of Max's collar. The dog trotted into the living room, where Gracie had retreated after hearing the calls of her twin cousins, and Carmen went to pour herself a cup of coffee.

"So where is everybody?" She asked.

"José, Carlos, and Andre are out getting a Christmas tree, and Maria had choir practice. The boys are in the living room trying to play Twister, and Ashley said she wanted to lay down for a little while, so I assume she's sleeping." Cecil answered as he plucked dog hair from his sweater.

"_Finally _Dad's going to get that damn Christmas tree!" Carmen said. "He's been putting it off for weeks now." She took a long sip of coffee.

"Why is that?"

Carmen shrugged. "He said he didn't want the dang thing to die before Abuela could see it." She said. "She'll be here Christmas Eve, which is only – wow, only two days from now. She lives in Florida in a retirement home."

Cecil nodded. He had wondered why he had had yet to meet Carlos's abuela, but the thought of asking why had not been considered in the excitement of the previous day's events. If he were being honest, Cecil had almost completely forgotten about her.

A sharp tinkling rang through the air as the two fell into comfortable silence, and Carmen pulled a blue phone from her pocket.

"Crap," she muttered. "Give me a second." She stepped into the foyer, pressing the phone to her ear. "_Please _tell me you aren't calling for what I think you're calling for, Janelle."

The radio host decided to allow her some privacy, and made his exit into the living room, where Donovan, Cody, and Gracie were all engaged in a game of Twister set up on the floor. Gracie was holding the spinner.

"Left hand green!" She called.

"No way!" Donovan protested from his – rather unfortunate – pretzel-like formation on the mat. "That's the third time you're called that in a row! You're cheating again!"

Gracie scowled and stomped her foot. "I am not!" She said. "I can't help that the arrow keeps landing on it!" She flicked the spinner again. "Right foot yellow!"

Cody went to reach his leg over his brother when Donovan spotted Cecil as he walked into the room, and grinned, jumping to his feet, sending Cody careening over, glaring at his brother as Gracie guffawed at her cousin's misfortune.

"Cecil!" He said. "Wanna play?"

Cecil laughed. "Sure." He said, walking over to the mat and removing his socks to allow for better traction, making sure to place them within eyeshot so as to discourage the sock trolls from stealing them; they were the purple argyle ones, his favorite.

Gracie waited patiently as her cousins and Cecil got into position on the mat before she sat down crosslegged and flicked the arrow.

"Right foot red!" She called, and the three players in front of her did as she asked.

"Left hand green!"

Cecil bent himself easily over the forms of Donovan and Cody, who were small enough to fit underneath his crouched form. Cecil was suddenly very grateful for his agility and flexibility; he was in no way a contortionist – he and his childhood best friend Earl Harlan had had many a competition during their time in the Boy Scouts trying to put their feet behind their heads, never with any level of success – but growing up in Night Vale had at least trained him to be able to move quickly, and in various poses.

"Left hand red!"

Well. Now that posed a problem.

"Don't fall on us!" Cody begged as he shakily reached his slightly too short arm forward towards the red dot next to his brother's hand. "You'll crush us!"

Cecil chuckled. "I'll try." He promised.

"Right hand red!"

Donovan collapsed beneath him, and Gracie laughed.

"You're out, Donnie!" She said.

Donovan mumbled underneath his breath as he scooted himself off of the man, leaving his brother wobbling slightly as Cecil managed to remain firmly planted with both hands and his right foot on red dots. Cody was struggling, especially considering there was only one red dot left, and he currently had both hands on the open dot, and one foot atop Cecil's. Cecil's left leg was perfectly poised in the air, with nowhere to rest, until, finally, Gracie called out, "Left foot blue!"

With that, he sat down his foot, and in the process, promptly collapsed in a heap, Cody squeaking as he did as well, barely avoiding getting crushed below Cecil. He and Cecil sat dazed on the mat before they looked at one another, and burst into laughter.

"You _all _lose!" Gracie said as she proudly grinned, waving the spinner board. "Guess that means I win by default!"

"No way!" Donovan said. "I demand a rematch!"

At that moment, Carmen walked into the room. She raised an eyebrow as she looked at the Twister mat.

"Do I even _want _to know?" She asked finally.

"Donnie, Cody, and Ceesaw all fell!" Gracie said. "So I won, didn't I, Mommy?"

Carmen chuckled and shook her head. "I don't think that's how it works, kiddo." She said, ruffling Gracie's curls. She looked at Cecil, who had picked himself off of the floor and was straightening his purple glasses. "Hey, Cecil, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Of course!" Cecil said. He looked at the children. "I'll be right back."

"Okay, but we're starting without you!" Donovan said as he grabbed the spinner board from Gracie. "I'm spinner this time!"

Cecil followed Carmen back into the kitchen, and he realized as his bare feet hit the cool tile that he had forgotten to replace his socks. Carmen ran a hand through her hair and let out a long sigh.

"I have a _huge favor _to ask." She said finally, wringing her hands. "That was my coworker Janelle at the hospital. Carla's husband and daughter have the flu and she can't make it into work, and they need someone to cover a two hour shift until Marc can get there. Is there any way I can convince you to stay with the kids while I run to work and cover for Carla?"

"Of course!" Cecil said. "It'll be no trouble!"

Carmen looked unsure. "Are you sure? I also promised I'd make gingerbread cookies with them today. Have you ever made gingerbread?"

Cecil shook his head. "I can't say that I have, but I'm sure there's a recipe online I can conjure."

"No need for that; you can use Mamá's. It's in the book by the toaster." Carmen pointed to the toaster in the corner, where a red book was propped up next to it. "It's a really easy recipe, and you should have all the ingredients…usually I'd ask Ashley to watch them, but she's getting _really _close to her due date and I want her to be able to rest as much as possible." She looked at Cecil seriously. "Are you _sure _you're okay with this? They can be a bit hard to handle sometimes…"

Cecil smiled and squeezed Carmen's shoulder.

"I assure you, I can handle this." He said confidently. "I've dealt with much worse back home, _believe me._" He rolled his eyes. "Those mute children that come to the studio from time to time can be quite the handful."

Carmen blinked a few times at him in obvious confusion before she shook her head.

"Okay…" she said slowly. "If you're sure…"

"Positive!" Cecil grinned. "You do what you have to."

After a second, a brilliant grin not unlike the one Carlos wore whenever he saw Cecil broke out on her face, and she threw her arms around Cecil's neck.

"Thank you, thank you, _thankyouthankyouthankyou!_" She said. "You are saving my life here, you have no idea." She kissed his cheek chastely. "You're also preventing a mutiny, which is never a bad thing to avoid."

Cecil laughed in agreement. Carmen released him and quickly texted a reply into her phone before she walked back into the living room.

"Alright, nerdlets," she addressed the children. "I have to go into work for a few hours, but Cecil is going to stay with you until I get back, okay?"

"But Tía Carmen!" Cody protested. "You promised you'd make gingerbread with us!"

Carmen ruffled Cody's dark red hair. "Sorry, Code," she said. "But I can't today. Cecil said he'd help you, _but…_" She raised an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips menacingly. "That's _only _if you promise to behave and stay quiet so you don't wake up your mom, _and _you promise not to coerce Cecil into anything you know you aren't allowed to do, _and _you clean up any messes you make. Deal?"

The three children nodded vigorously.

"We promise!" They said in unison.

"Raise your right hand, stand on one leg, and cross you heart." Carmen commanded, and the children complied, though Gracie seemed to have a bit of a problem remaining balanced. "Do you hereby solemnly swear that you will _not _be up to no good while I'm gone?"

"We solemnly swear!" They said.

"And you are aware that the breaking of this vow is punishable by tickling?" Carmen fixed them with a serious stare, but winked at Cecil, who smiled.

"Yes!"

"Alright. You can stop now." She bent and kissed Gracie on the forehead. "Keep 'em in line, Gracie Girl." She whispered to her daughter, who saluted her.

"Aye aye, captain!" She said, and giggled.

"That's my girl!" Carmen smiled. "You guys be good for Uncle Cecil, and we'll see about going sledding when _Abuelo, _Tío Carlos and Andre get back, okay?"

With the possibility of sledding, the three kids nodded.

"Okay!"

Carmen gave them a single nod and turned to walk away, leaning in to whisper to Cecil as she passed him.

"If they act up, just lock them in the bathroom." She said. "Or sic Max on them, but he won't do much more than sit on them."

Cecil chuckled. "We'll be fine, Carmen. I'll make sure they don't wake up Ashley, either."

Carmen smiled and gave Cecil's arm a squeeze.

"Thank you so much for this, Cecil. I owe you one!"

With that, she grabbed her coat and purse, and quickly retreated into the snowy world outside and into her car.

Gracie pulled on Cecil's sleeve.

"Ceesaw?" She asked quietly. "Can we make gingerbread now?"

Cecil smiled as he bent and scooped the little girl into the air, tossing her over his shoulder as she laughed in delight.

"I don't see why not." He said, and waved a hand at the boys. "Come on, then! Gingerbread won't make itself!"

The twins followed him into the kitchen, where he gently sat Gracie back onto the floor. He walked over to the toaster and pulled the recipe book from beside it, flipping through it until he found one labeled "gingerbread."

"Alright, guys, I need…butter, ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon, brown sugar…" He went down the list of ingredients while the twins and Gracie gathered them from the various cupboards and the fridge, dropping them onto the counter as they did so. Before long, all of the ingredients were gathered.

"What about yeast?" Donovan questioned. "We learned in class that yeast is what makes bread rise…so don't we need that to make the dough work?"

"Hmm…" Cecil pondered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not much of a baker, honestly. So I suppose you could be correct, but I'm not sure yeast is required for cookies…"

"I think Donnie is right!" Gracie said. "Because what if he _is _right and our cookies don't come out right?!"

"Well, I suppose adding yeast couldn't _hurt…_" Cecil reasoned. "If nothing else, they'll just be more bread-like and less cookie-like."

Cody held up a small packet of dry yeast from the breadbox near the toaster.

"I found some of Abuela's!" He said as he proudly placed it on the counter next to the other ingredients.

Cecil chuckled as he carefully rolled up the sleeves of his sweater. Cody and Donovan's eyes went wide as Cecil's tattoos came into view.

"Whoa, cool!" Donovan said. "You have tattoos?!"

Cecil grinned. "Sometimes if you watch carefully, they'll move."

"Really?! _Cool!_" Cody said.

"No way! Tattoos don't move!" Donovan admonished. "They're just ink, how can they move?"

"Well, in Night Vale, a lot of things are possible that aren't possible here." Cecil explained vaguely. "And maybe tattoos can move there." He winked at the kids, whose eyes had gone wide as they blinked at him.

"Hey, I think one of them moved!" Gracie said, pointing to one of the tentacles on Cecil's arm. "It wiggled!"

"No way, let me see!" Donovan demanded, and Cecil held out his arms, palms out and facing upwards, as the kids surveyed the ink on his skin. He chuckled inwardly; he knew for a fact that his tattoos had not moved even the slightest, though he found himself suddenly missing the familiar tingle as they would twitch and float across his skin back home, but he allowed the kids to believe that maybe, just maybe, they _had _moved.

"_Awesome._" Cody grinned at Cecil.

"Tell us more about Night Vale!" Gracie pleaded as Cecil began carefully measuring the ingredients into a large bowl from the drying rack by the sink. "Please?"

"Hmm…" Cecil mused. "Tell you what. Let's get through this cookie making business, and then I promise I'll tell you all about Night Vale as we sit down and devour them all. Sound like a deal?"

"Yes!" Gracie said, and the twins nodded enthusiastically.

The kids were quiet for a few more precious moments as Cecil added together the necessary components into the bowl, adding the small packet of yeast last, and stirred them together with a large wooden spoon. He preheated the oven to 350 degrees, just as the book said, and spooned out some of the dough onto a cookie sheet.

"I wish the cookie cutter hadn't broke!" Gracie said dejectedly, pouting slightly. "Then we could have _real _gingerbread."

Cecil ruffled her hair. "I'm sure it will taste the same. I doubt shape has anything to do with that."

"But it's not the same!" Gracie insisted. "They were so much more fun when they were in the shape of Christmas trees and stars!"

"Agreed." Donovan said.

About five minutes later, the oven gave a cheery _ding! _indicating that it had reached the preferred heat setting, and Cecil very carefully placed the cookie sheet inside. Gracie eagerly plopped herself in front of the oven door and peered inside.

"Look! You can watch them cook!" She said. "Mommy and I always do that whenever we make cookies at home. It's fun!"

Cecil smiled as he washed the dishes in the sink. The boys, with nothing better to do, sat down beside Gracie in front of the oven to observe the cookie dough as it rose.

As Cecil was drying off the mixing bowl and placing it in the drying rack, Cody said from his place on the floor,

"Uh, Cecil? Is gingerbread supposed to bubble?"

Cecil frowned, and quickly sat down the bowl, and went to investigate, wiping his hands on his pants , and squatted down beside the kids to look through the clear door of the oven.

Inside, the cookies – if you could call them that – were bubbling like caldrons, the carefully measured distances between rendered to mere pockets of air as they melted and formed into what looked like a gurgling, possessed puddle in the middle of the cookie sheet. The dough had begun to run, and was dripping off the side of the pan onto the bottom of the oven, where it sizzled and smoked.

_Crap. _

Cecil was no baker, nor was he a scientist, but he was certain that cookies were _not _supposed to dissolve into grotesque, bubbling masses.

"Stand back!" He commanded the children, his Radio Voice leaking out, and he quickly flipped the knob on the stove off, and grabbed the oven mitts from their hook on the wall by the light switch that activated the garbage disposal. He opened the oven, and smoke poured from it in thick, grey clouds. The kids coughed from their place underneath the table, and Cecil waved his hand, frantically trying to dissipate some of the smoke as he grabbed the cookie sheet with the other. It continued to bubble and drip onto the floor as he hurriedly rushed to the foyer and opened the front door, where he scurried onto the porch and flung the smoldering mass, cookie sheet and all, into the snow below, where it gave a final hiss as it ceased smoking and promptly died.

Cecil gave the defeated cookie sheet and its indiscernible blob a final nod as he turned on his heel and hurried back into the kitchen, where the children still huddled beneath the table.

"You can come out now." He said. "It's gone now."

"What went wrong?" Donovan asked as he crawled out behind his brother and cousin.

Cecil shook his head. "I don't know." He admitted. "Maybe the stove didn't like them? My stove has a tendency to spit back out anything it does not deem worthy of being consumed on occasion."

"Maybe it didn't like that they weren't shaped like actual gingerbread men!" Gracie suggested.

"Silly, stoves don't _like _things!" Cody said, crossing his arms. "They don't have brains!"

"They can so like things!" Gracie insisted, stomping her foot for emphasis. "Right, Uncle Ceesaw?"

"I must agree with Gracie, boys." Cecil said, nodding. "Just because it doesn't have a brain doesn't mean it isn't sentient."

Donovan opened his mouth to argue when at that moment, Ashley walked into the room, clad in plaid pajama bottoms, pink fuzzy socks, and a large, long sleeved maternity shirt pulled over her bulging belly. Her red hair was disheveled, and her green eyes wide as she surveyed the scene before her. Smoke still danced hazily in the air, and the entire room reeked of the burned cookie batter that had fallen off of the pan into the bottom of the stove.

"What in the world is going on in here?!" She asked as she stepped hesitantly forward. She looked at Cecil, who looked down at the floor guiltily, his face burning with embarrassment.

"Uncle Ceesaw killed the gingerbread!" Gracie said enthusiastically. "They melted off the pan and he had to throw it outside before it exploded!"

Ashley blinked at her niece before she settled her confused gaze back on Cecil, who bit his lip and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"I think the stove disapproved." He said meekly.

Ashley shook her head and walked over to the stove, peering inside at the blackened spots of charred batter. "What recipe did you use?" She asked.

"Maria's," Cecil answered, showing her the recipe book.

Ashley took it and surveyed the instructions.

"Did you put all the ingredients together correctly?" She asked.

Cecil nodded. "We added yeast, though, because we weren't sure if it would rise or not without it…"

Ashley suddenly threw back her head and laughed, shaking her head.

"Cecil, you're not supposed to add _yeast _to cookie dough!" She said. "The yeast reacts with the sugar and it creates carbon dioxide!"

"Oh." Cecil said, blinking. "I…I didn't know that. Sorry."

Ashley chuckled again, and reached out and laid her hand on his shoulder, still shaking her head.

"That's alright, Cecil." She said between giggles. "You didn't know. And you didn't set the house on fire, and no one was hurt, so I don't think you have anything to apologize for."

Cecil's face was still flushed in embarrassment, but he smiled at Ashley.

"Did we wake you up, Mom?" Cody asked. Ashley shook her head.

"No, you're baby sibling was keeping me up." She answered. "He or she will _not _stop kicking me."

"Ooooh, can I feel, Tía Ashley?!" Gracie begged. "Please?!"

Ashley smiled and nodded. Gracie giddily placed her tiny hands against her aunt's belly, and Ashley placed her hands over them, guiding them to the side.

"Right there." She said. "That's where they're kicking."

"I don't feel anything!" Gracie said.

"Just wait." Ashley promised.

After a few more seconds, Gracie broke out in a huge grin, and she squealed in delight.

"I felt it, I felt it!" She cried as she bounced happily. "It kicked!"

Donovan and Cody grinned broadly as they, too, pressed their hands to their mother's stomach, and felt as their little brother or sister kicked at their hands, too, as though heralding a hello to the world outside its mother's womb.

Ashley looked at Cecil, who watched in rapt fascination.

"Do you want to?" She asked.

"Oh, um…" Cecil chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Are you sure it's alright?"

"Of course, come on!" Ashley said, reaching out and grabbing his hand, bringing his palm against her firm belly.

There was suddenly a small, tiny tap against Cecil's hand, like the faint flutter of a butterfly wing against skin, and Cecil couldn't contain the grin that spread across his face as he felt the child inside of Ashley kick him again.

"Oh my gosh, that is just…_neat!_" He gushed, pulling his hand away. "Thank you!"

Ashley smiled. "You're welcome." She said. "I take it you've never done that before?"

Cecil shook his head. "No, never." He said. "But it was beautiful."

Ashley 'hmmed' in agreement as she gently caressed her stomach. "It is." She affirmed. "There's nothing like bringing life into this big and crazy world." Her green eyes were sparkling.

Cody pulled on Cecil's arm.

"Hey, Cecil, we want to build a fort in the living room!" He said. "Will you help us? We don't know how."

"Of course!" Cecil said as he allowed the boy to pull him towards the living room. He shot Ashley a grin, and she laughed. "I didn't earn my Fort Building Badge when I was in the Boy Scouts just standing around, now did I?"

Cody released Cecil as they entered the living room, where Gracie was completely covered by a large sheet, and Cecil sincerely hoped that she hadn't pulled it from anyone's bed.

"Get me out, get me out!" She demanded. "When I get my hands on you, Donnie, you are in _so much trouble, mister_!"

Cecil chuckled and reached out to held untangle Gracie from beneath the sheets. Her head popped out from the folds, her hair disheveled, and she glared at her cousin.

"Meanie." She said. She smiled at Cecil. "Thank you, Uncle Ceesaw!"

"So how are we gonna do this?" Donovan asked. "Dad usually helps us when we build them at home, and he always uses chairs."

"Mommy used to make me a fort using the couch cushions!" Gracie suggested.

"Well, that's not happening." Ashley said as she waddled in the room and slowly sank onto the couch, her hand on her stomach.

The three kids looked to Cecil, who looked around the room contemplatively, his brow furrowed in concentration.

The corner next to the television was most certainly out; Carlos had informed him before leaving that that was for the customary placement of the Christmas tree. The couch was currently occupied, and Cecil highly doubted José would be too pleased to come home and be unable to sit down and enjoy television, which also ruled out the kitchen table's chairs – after all, Cecil preferred to sit rather than stand to eat. Finally his gaze settled on the corner between the left side of the couch and the wall.

He walked over to it and surveyed the space carefully, making sure there was enough space for the three kids to squeeze in together, and that there was some form of way to hang a sheet. He supposed one chair could be spared from the table, so long as it was replaced before Abuela joined them in two days. The cogs in his brain suddenly went into overdrive, and he clapped his hands together.

"Alright!" He said brightly. "I believe I have a solution!" He grabbed the sheet. "Let's get started!"

...oOo...

Carmen arrived back from work just as Carlos, José, and Andre returned from their Christmas tree excursion triumphant, a full and nicely sized six foot tree strapped to the roof of José's car.

Carmen grinned and cocked an eyebrow at her brothers and father as she neared them.

"Success, then, I take it?" She asked.

Andre smirked. "Thank God. I thought Dad was never going to decide."

"_No seas descarado, muchacho._" José said, but he smiled at his son, shaking his head.

"Where were you?" Carlos asked as he grabbed the rope that held the Christmas tree in place and began untying it. "I thought you were making cookies with the kids today?"

"I got called in to work for a couple hours." Carmen explained as she, too, grabbed at the rope to help, setting to work on a particularly interesting knot that she was sure Andre had tied. "Ashley was laying down, so I asked Cecil if he would mind watching the kids until I got back."

Carlos stopped what he was doing and laughed.

"I swear, Carmen, if I go in there and my boyfriend has been sacrificed to a glitter or makeup god, I'm blaming you!" He said good-naturedly. He saw José give him a pointed look out of the corner of his eye at the use of the word 'boyfriend,' but he ignored it.

Carmen rolled her eyes. "I'm sure he's makeup free. Max ate all of Gracie's lip gloss a couple days ago anyway."

"He'd let her do whatever she wanted." Andre said as he grabbed at the trunk of the tree with José close behind. "Seems like she's got him wrapped around her finger."

Carlos chuckled. "Most kids do."

Together, the three men hoisted the tree from the top of the car, and slowly made their way towards the front door as Carmen ran ahead to open it.

Very carefully, José helped Andre and Carlos guide the large tree inside through the door. They paused in the foyer, setting it down for a moment.

"_Hola!" _He called. "_Donde está todo el mundo?"_

"In here!" Came Ashley's voice from the living room.

"Just set the tree against the wall for a second, boys." José said as he slipped his gloves from his hands and shut the door. "We still have to get the base from the attic anyway. Don't block the door or your mamá won't be able to get inside."

Carlos and Andre did as they were told before they stomped out of their boots and sat them by the door before walking into the living room.

The entire living room had been completely transformed in what could only be described as a winter wonderland straight out of the movie _Elf. _Paper snowflakes hung from colorful yarn from the ceiling, and light fixtures, and paper chains were extended from corner to corner. Ashley was contentedly stapling another ring onto a rather long paper chain from the couch, while Donovan and Cody tackled the other end. Cecil and Gracie sat at the center of the room, snipping away at carefully folded sheets of paper with safety scissors, the chain wound around them. Gracie giggled as Cecil unfolded the piece of paper he had been cutting to reveal a snowflake with the Night Vale Community Radio logo expertly positioned into each spire.

"Cool!" She said. She held up her own snowflake, which was much more crudely cut, and observably more square than Cecil's elegant, perfectly symmetrical work.

"Neat!" Cecil commented. He caught sight of Carlos, and his face lit up, and he gave him a small wave. "Oh, Carlos! You're back!"

Carlos chuckled as he walked further into the room, his brother, sister, and father not far behind.

"What is all this?" Andre asked as he crossed the room to kiss his wife.

"It was the kids' idea." Ashley explained. "Cecil just sort of…expedited it."

"Whatever happened to making cookies?" Carmen asked as she reached out a hand to gently touch a snowflake – it had depictions of cats on it, so it was most definitely Cecil's.

"Tío Cecil blew them up." Cody said as he added another ring to the paper chain.

"Yeah! And he had to throw it outside so it wouldn't blow up the whole house!" Gracie piped.

Carlos's eyebrows rose, his eyes widening in alarm, and he looked at his blushing boyfriend, who remained positioned on the floor next to Gracie.

"I may have added yeast to the dough…" He said. "Sorry."

Carlos couldn't help it; he burst out laughing, the worry suddenly eradicated. He could see the reaction in his mind's eye, and somehow, he found it extremely hilarious.

"And that is why you aren't allowed anywhere near the chemicals in the lab, _querido._" He said affectionately as he offered a hand to Cecil to help him to his feet.

Cecil grinned at him, and took his hand, hoisting himself upwards.

"Abuelo, Abuelo, look at the fort we built!" Gracie said as she, too, leapt to her feet and grabbed José's hand. José gave her a soft smile, and Carlos found himself musing that this was one of the first times he'd seen his father smile since his arrival. José allowed the little girl to drag him over to where a sheet had been positioned in a tent like fashion, one end stuck in between the back cushions of the couch, another tied to the back of a chair from the dining room table, and the third corner carefully wedged beneath the windowpane, while the fourth and final corner was allowed to hang like a flapping door. Carlos resisted the urge to laugh as he realized that the sheets were some of Andre's old ones with the ducks on it.

Gracie raised the flap to show her grandfather the myriad of extra blankets and pillows inside, as well as a few flashlights and some of Carlos's old comic books.

José chuckled mirthfully as he sat his hand atop Gracie's dark curls.

"It's lovely, _pequeño._" He said. "Did you build it all by yourself?"

Gracie shook her head.

"Tío Cecil helped us!" She said. "He's really good at building forts, though I think he needs to never bake cookies again. They were terrible."

José frowned. "What did you say?"

"Tío Cecil can't bake." Gracie said, giggling. "But he can make really pretty paper snowflakes!"

José shook his head, and took in a deep breath. Suddenly Carlos was very aware of what he was about to say, and he grabbed Cecil's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Cecil isn't your uncle, _pequeño._" José said gently but sternly to Gracie.

"Yes he is!" Gracie insisted. "He's Tío Carlos's boyfriend, so he's my uncle, like Tía Ashley is my aunt."

Carlos saw Carmen nodding her head slightly from the corner of his eye, and for the thousandth time in his life, he was thankful that his sister was as supportive as she was, and that she was, in fact, a brilliant mother that was raising a brilliant child.

"Cecil can't be your uncle, Gracie." José said, just as sternly.

"Why not?" Gracie's eyebrows furrowed as she looked at her grandfather, who shook his head, unable to explain it to her. "I want to call him Tío Cecil, so I will." She crossed her little arms.

In the end, nothing more was said about the subject, and it was dropped as Gracie's attentions were once again stolen by her twin cousins as they proclaimed that they were going into the backyard to build a snowman. José stole into the kitchen, shaking his head and muttering in Spanish that Carlos didn't quite catch.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Andre finally cleared his throat.

"Hey, _hermano, _wanna go into the attic and get the tree base?" He asked. "I'm going to help the boys get into their snowsuits, then we can get the tree up. I think the decorations are up there, too."

Carlos, eager for a reason to remove himself – and Cecil – from the stuffy air José's opposition had left, nodded.

"Sure." He said. He turned his head and looked at Cecil. "I could probably use some help carrying down the boxes of decorations. Want to help?"

"Of course!" Cecil answered brightly, beaming. "I'd gladly offer my assistance."

Carlos squeezed his hand and nodded to his brother before he turned and led Cecil down the hall to the door in the ceiling in front of what Cecil could only assume was José and Maria's room, or perhaps even the spare bedroom. Carlos grabbed the string hanging from it and pulled until the ladder descended all the way to the floor. He tested the first rung before he climbed into the ceiling, offering Cecil a hand once inside.

Cecil accepted it, and Carlos helped haul him upwards. The attic was a few degrees colder than the rest of the house, and Carlos gave an involuntary shiver as he stood to his feet and looked around the slightly cluttered space for the tree base. He spied it hiding beneath what appeared to be an old horse blanket in the corner, and he made his way towards it, ducking his head as the ceiling slopped downwards. He grabbed it and tucked it beneath his arm.

"Found it!" He declared, turning back to face Cecil, who was kneeling next to a box labeled "_Carlos"_ not far from the door to the attic.

"Awwwww, Carlos, look!" He crooned, pulling a picture frame from the box. "You were absolutely adorable!"

"What?" Carlos walked closer, and looked at the picture Cecil held in his hands. It was, indeed, a picture of Carlos when he was about eight or nine years old. He was standing against the side of the shed out back, grinning a gap-toothed grin, as his two front teeth were missing. His hair was much as it was now, the curls sticking out at all angles, but without the silver at his temples (which he would forever blame on his days as a grad student). He was wearing a _Back to the Future _t-shirt, which he was fairly certain his mother still had stashed somewhere.

"And look!" Cecil said as he reached back into the box and produced several hardbound books. "Yearbooks!"

"Oh god," Carlos said as he sat himself down next to Cecil. "I thought I told Carmen to get rid of those!"

Cecil elbowed him playfully in the ribs. "Why ever would you want to do that?!" He demanded. He traced the label with his finger. "1999?"

"I was sixteen then, so I was a junior." Carlos said as Cecil opened the yearbook, flipping through the pages until he came across one labeled "Class of 2000" in bright red letters. He ran his fingers down the margin of the page at the last names until, finally, he came across "Carlos Ramirez," and found the corresponding photo.

He couldn't contain the small laugh of pleasure as he gazed down at the dorky picture of his teenaged boyfriend, captured forever in the yearbook photo. His hair had been cut extremely short, almost shorn, on the sides, creating a puff of curls at the top, just above his ears. It was befitting, somehow, as much as Cecil loved the way he allowed his hair to fall in pleasant waves now. He wore a crooked, almost shy grin, and his glasses were _enormous_ with their thick frames and lenses.

"Your hair!" He said, pointing to it, laughing. "It's so different!"

"Hey, I will have you know that was the style back then!" Carlos said, trying to sound offended, but the smile on his face gave him away. "I kept it like that until I went to college. It's coming back in style."

"No, no, I like it!" Cecil said. "I do, really! It suits you."

He flipped through a few more pages until he happened across the band page, where he found Carlos amid the group photo of the marching band.

"I think there's a picture of me and Carmen in there somewhere…" Carlos said as he turned his attention to the box beside them, setting the tree base down to rummage through it for a minute. "Here it is! Mom has a copy framed downstairs on the mantel, but I had one, too, in my room."

He handed the frame to Cecil, who closed the yearbook and took it. The picture was of him, Carmen, and Andre, around the same year. They were all posing against a chain link fence, a football field behind them. Andre had on football gear, his helmet in his left hand. Carmen and Carlos had their backs to one another, Carmen with what Cecil recognized as "Rachel Hair," dressed in a red and gold sequined outfit with a green flag in her hand, while Carlos donned his marching band uniform, an alto saxophone hanging from his neck.

"You played saxophone?" Cecil asked, raising an eyebrow. Carlos nodded.

"I still have it," he said. "It's in my closet at home."

_Home. _Just the way he said it made his spine tingle. He had never expected to call Night Vale home, but, then again, he had never expected a lot of what had been awaiting him in the strange little desert town.

Cecil smiled. "You never told me you played!" He said. "I played piano when I was younger, though I played the dirigido in high school for a year."

Carlos laughed, the image of Cecil walking around on the dusty ground of Night Vale High School's football field with a dirigido in his hands was almost absurd.

"I play guitar, too, if it's worth anything." Carlos said. "My roommate at Caltech taught me."

"Neat!" Cecil grinned. "You'll have to show me sometime."

Carlos smiled and kissed Cecil's temple. "Someday." He promised. "Now, come on, let's get this tree base and the decorations downstairs before Andre comes looking for us. That tree isn't going to decorate itself."

"Can I take this down with me?" Cecil gestured to the box. "I can put it in our room, so it's out of the way."

Carlos shrugged. "Sure, I don't see why not. Mamá might actually let you keep some of them, if you ask her. I don't think she'll miss them too much if they're up here."

Cecil squeaked delightedly, and he placed the yearbooks and photos back in the box before he lifted it into his arms. Carlos quickly located the Christmas tree decorations box, and grabbed it, placing the tree base on top.

"Can you get down okay?" He asked Cecil as his boyfriend began to back himself down the ladder, one arm around the box and his free hand clutching the rungs.

"I think so." Cecil said. He reached the floor, and sat the box down. "Here, hand me the tree base."

Carlos did as he asked, and lowered the base down into Cecil's hands before he, too, made his way down the ladder. His footing slipped on the last rung, and he would have fallen had Cecil not reached out and steadied him as his feet slammed into the carpet.

"Thanks." He said.

"Always, dearest Carlos." Cecil said, pecking him on the cheek.

Carlos smiled, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw José peering at them from the living room, and he swallowed.

_Don't let him bother you so much, Carlos. _He said to himself.

Still, as he and Cecil made their way back into the living room after Cecil had deposited the box of yearbooks into their room, he couldn't stop the butterflies of anxiety that floated in his stomach.

* * *

**That's right, I gave Teenage!Carlos Dylan hair.**

**Also, I find the mental image of Cecil playing the dirigido hilarious. Jussayin'.**

**-**  
**Translations:**

**-No seas descarado, muchacho: "Don't be cheeky, boy"**  
**-Donde está todo el mundo: "Where is everybody?"**  
**-abuelo: "grandfather"**  
**-pequeño: "Little one"**


	8. Little Shopper Boy

**So, uh...I tweeted Cecil Baldwin and he sort of...liked my tweet? And I fangirled? The sounds that came out of my mouth were by no means human? Yeah. Life is made. **

**-ahem- Here you go, my lovelies! Some more fluff in which Carmen takes charge, Andre and Cecil bond, and Carlos is incredibly hopeless when it comes to wrapping Christmas gifts. :) Enjoy it while you can, because this story is about to go from tooth-rottingly fluffy to heartwrenchingly angsty in the next chapter! Ye be warned! :D **

**Anywho, I enjoyed writing this chapter. I love the interactions between Carlos and his siblings, in particular Carmen, because she's so vocal and extroverted whereas Carlos and Andre are introverted. Carmen is just hilariously fun for me to write. **

**Also, I totally stole Carlos's former wrapping habits (hint: it involves wrapping paper that's not wrapping paper) from my own life. Yeah. I was as hopeless as he was as a teen. Thank God I eventually learned! **

**CHAPTER SONG: "DNA" by Little Mix (Gaaaaaaaaaaaaah just a Cecilos song it's not even funny, and I regret NOTHING, dears.) **

_**Disclaimer: WTNV is a production of Commonplace Books. It is written by Joseph Fink and produced by Jeffrey Cranor. Cecil owns himself. I own nothing. **_

* * *

**It Came Upon a Voidless Clear**

A _Welcome to Night Vale _fanfiction

By doodlegirll

...oOo...

Chapter Eight: Little Shopper Boy

The tree proved to be an interesting time for Cecil, seeing as he had never before decorated one without the usual tentacles and City Council mandated All Seeing Eye at the top, but he nonetheless had an exceptional time going through an placing the ornaments on the tree after somehow getting himself completely entangled in the strings of lights when Carlos turned his back for three minutes. He had sheepishly grinned when Carlos had raised an inquisitive brow as he helped unwind his boyfriend from the strands.

"You are a walking catastrophe sometimes, I swear." He chuckled as he pulled the last light from where it had snagged in Cecil's sweater. "Eventually I'm just going to have to wrap you in bubblewrap and call it a day."

Cecil chewed his bottom lip, trying not to smile. "That's why I'm in the medium of radio, dearest Carlos." He said. "As far as journalistic professions go, I think it's safe to assume that radio is the least dangerous."

"I don't know about that." Carlos countered. "You've gotten yourself into some interesting mishaps. Need I remind you of the time you ran down the street to interview the renegade rhino that escaped from the zoo?"

Cecil waved a hand dismissively, but his violet eyes were wide and pleading with Carlos to not reveal the embarrassing details of the excursion when Carmen turned and gave them an interested look.

Eventually, Cecil had been detangled, the lights had been strung and plugged in, and the ornaments had been added. Carlos hoisted Gracie onto his shoulders to allow her to top the tree with the angel Maria had croqueted in her youth, and the deed was done.

"_Qué hermoso árbol!_" Came a voice from the door, and Maria walked into the room, smiling widely as she placed her hands on her hips and walked towards the Christmas tree.

"Abuela!" Gracie cried, hugging her grandmother around the legs. "Isn't it pretty?! Tío Carlos let me put the angel on!"

Maria smiled and pinched Gracie gently on the cheek.

"And you did a wonderful job, _cariño._" She said.

Gracie beamed as she pulled away from Maria and bound into the fort at the other end of the room, where Donovan and Cody had retreated after the last ornament had been placed. There were cries of fowl as she barreled into one of them.

"It _does _look great." Carmen agreed, and she slung her arms around Carlos and Cecil's shoulders. "But…it's still missing something."

"Yeah, presents." Carlos said. "I haven't even been shopping yet."

Carmen laughed. "Well, luckily for you, I'm about to head to the mall! If the two of you wanted to tag along, you're more than welcome. I promised Gracie I'd take her to see Santa Claus tomorrow before I have to head into work, so if you don't want to go now, you can always stick around then."

"No, now sounds great." Carlos said, looking at Cecil, whose violet eyes were sparkling with curiosity. "You up for it, Cec?"

"Yes!" Cecil agreed enthusiastically. "Admittedly, I have not gotten any shopping done myself."

"It's settled, then." Carmen said, releasing her brother and his boyfriend. "You have twenty minutes, gents. Get going."

She pushed the two of them towards the hall. Smiling, they made their way into Carlos's old bedroom, where Carlos pulled a clean flannel from one of the drawers and slipped it over his sweater.

"I'm beginning to miss the lab coat." Cecil pouted as he slipped on a pair of fluffy socks that Carlos was sure could pass as a kitten. He grabbed his knitted NVCR scarf from where it hung around the bedpost, and slung it over his neck.

Carlos smiled. "Me, too." He admitted. "But I'm down to my last three, after I let you keep the one. I just had Angie spill a solution on one of them last week that made it change colors depending on my mood, and that only proved a distraction, especially…" He trailed off, blushing slightly.

"What?" Cecil pressed.

"Especially when your show is on." Carlos mumbled softly.

"Carlos – sweet, lovely Carlos – are you implying that your emotionally coordinated lab coat causes you embarrassment whenever you listen to my show at work?" Cecil couldn't keep the smile from his face as his scientist's brown skin turned another shade of red.

"What can I say?" Carlos asked as he crossed the room to pull Cecil into his arms. "You make my dopamine levels go crazy." He pressed his lips against Cecil's, relishing in the privacy the closed door offered, where there were no prying eyes or opinions to be had. Cecil returned the kiss in earnest, his hand coming up to gently caress the stubble at Carlos's jawline before snaking into his hair.

Carlos finally pulled away, rubbing his nose against Cecil's.

"Love you." He whispered.

"Love you, too." Cecil smiled.

"Alright, lovebirds, break it up!"

The two men jumped apart, whirling around to face the doorway, where Carmen stood, an amused smirk on her face. Cecil blushed deeply, looking extremely guilty, like a child caught in the act of stealing another cookie, and Carlos almost laughed. Almost.

Carmen shook her head, but her blue eyes were sparkling.

"I swear, the two of you are so sweet you'll give us all cavities." She grumbled. "Are you two ready?"

Carlos nodded, and he grabbed his wallet from the dresser, slipping it into his back pocket.

"As we'll ever be." He said.

"Well, then, let's go!" Carmen said, gesturing with her hand to indicate a need for rushing. "We don't have all day!"

"Bossy." Carlos muttered under his breath as he passed his sister, and he managed to dodge the light punch she aimed at his arm.

They made their way into the foyer, where they forced their feet into their boots – Cecil was excited to finally be able to use his new pair – and pulled on their coats.

"Whoa, damn!" Carmen said as Cecil zipped up his parka. "That shade of green is _not _found in nature!"

"Of course it is!" Cecil protested. "I'll have you know there are plenty of plants that grow along the perimeter of Radon Canyon in Night Vale that have stems and leaves in this lovely hue! Of course, they're slightly radioactive…"

He trailed off when Carlos shook his head, waving his hands a bit in a motion Cecil took to mean "ex-nay on the alking-tay." Luckily he was fluent in not only Pig Latin, but also in Modified Pig Latin Sign Language, thanks to the MPLSL classes that had been offered in the Boy Scouts.

Carmen shook her head. "Either way, I'm pretty sure that thing would glow in the dark."

Carlos chuckled. "That's what I thought, too, when I first saw it."

Cecil rolled his eyes, but the smile refused to leave his face as Carlos slipped his mittened hand into his.

"Andre! Hurry it up!" Carmen yelled into the living room. "Time's a wastin'!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Andre said as he rushed into the foyer, running a hand through his hair.

"Here," Carlos said, handing Cecil a pair of plum colored earmuffs as he put on his dark green cap, twisting his blue scarf around his neck. "These should keep you warm. Carmen's car takes forever to heat up."

"Only because she's picky." Carmen winked. "She only takes forever when Carlos is in the car."

After Andre had successfully wiggled his way into his coat and boots, the four trudged out onto the front porch, Carmen calling a goodbye inside before shutting the door behind her. She slid into the front seat of her light blue Hyundai Sonata and started it, Andre sliding into the passenger, with Carlos and Cecil in the backseat. Christmas music blasted from the speakers, and she turned it down as she turned and carefully executed a three-point turn.

"Alright," she said after a moment of silence as they began their trek down the long driveway, and Cecil was overcome with how beautiful the scenery was now that he could see it in the daylight. "I'd say this is a very delicate procedure. I have most of my shopping done for the kids, but I still need to get something for you," she poked Andre in the arm, and he swatted at her hand good-naturedly. "And you, Cecil." She looked in the rearview mirror. "Carlos is pretty cavalier about telling me what, exactly, it is you like, so I've devised a plan."

"I have _not _been cavalier, Carmen." Carlos argued.

Carmen rolled her eyes. "Whatever you want to call it, I haven't been able to weasel anything out of you, big brother." She said. "So, here's the plan. We have about three hours to kill before Mamá will expect us home for dinner, thus we will need to optimize our time. So I've decided that we should break into two teams. Carlos, you're with me. Cecil, you and Andre need some bonding time, so I figured this would be as good a time as any. After an hour and a half, we'll meet at the food court, where Carlos and Cecil will trade, meaning Cecil will come with me and Carlos and Andre will team up." She smiled proudly as she brought the car to a rolling stop at a stop sign, beaming into the rearview mirror at her brother and his boyfriend. Carlos blinked.

"You've had this planned all day, haven't you?" He asked.

Carmen shook her head. "Actually, I thought of that one on the fly." She said.

"Impressive." Andre said, nodding.

"_Gracias._" She said. "Now, sound like a plan?"

"Seeing as I doubt we have any other option, I second it." Andre said.

"Great!" Carmen made a quick left, steering them down the road towards a quaint downtown area, which, oddly enough, reminded Cecil of Old Town Night Vale with its little stores, including a barber shop with a rotating pole that reminded him of Telly. He glared at the pole as they passed, as though diverting some of his still pent-up hatred for the unfortunate Night Valean barber onto the innocent inanimate object. Carlos must have noticed his glare, because he reached out and took the broadcaster's hand in his.

Finally, Carmen pulled the car into the parking lot of a moderately sized shopping mall. She quickly located a parking space, and killed the engine, turning around in her seat.

"Alright, ready?" She asked. "We'll meet in the food court in an hour and a half, got it? Don't be late?"

"Understood." Cecil said, nodding. "Hour and a half, food court. We'll be there."

"Good!"

The four of them piled out of the little car, and Carlos gave Cecil a peck on the cheek.

"Text me if you get lost." He whispered in his ear.

"Don't worry about me." Cecil promised. "I'll be fine."

Carmen grabbed Carlos's arm and dragged him away from his boyfriend.

"Good luck, gentlemen!" She called to Andre and Cecil as she hurried Carlos along. "Happy shopping!"

Andre shook his head as he shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced at Cecil.

"So I can honestly say I haven't gotten a thing for Carlos yet." He said. "Any ideas?"

Cecil laughed. "Honestly, not a clue. I'm not sure the stores you have here in New York are exactly the same as the ones we have in Night Vale. I have a few things for Carlos already that I brought with me, but I might need some help with…" He trailed off, and swallowed before he continued. "José? Mostly?"

Andre smirked. "Yeah, Dad can be hard to buy for, especially when he's not exactly the most personable person in the world."

"We haven't spoken much since Carlos and I arrived," Cecil said as they began walking towards the mall. "But he doesn't seem to have much to say to me."

"Pretty sure it's not you." Andre assured him. "Like I said, not personable. The rest of the family already adores you."

Cecil blushed. "I suppose that's true…" he said quietly, not wanting to sound narcissistic.

"Hey." Andre reached out and grasped Cecil's shoulder. Cecil turned and looked the other man, who looked so much like Carlos, in the face. Andre's brown eyes, so much more piercing than Carlos's, yet just as soft and caring, peered into Cecil's purple ones, and he swallowed, suddenly nervous. "Listen, Cecil. Don't doubt that we care about you, okay? You make Carlos happy, and that's all any of us could ever ask for. Life has never been decidedly easy for him, being who he is, and what he is, and ever since he moved to Night Vale, he's so much happier, so much more confident and sure of who he is and where he stands in life, and I know we have you to thank for that. And the truth of the matter is, you may never win my dad's approval. That's just the reality of the situation. But who cares, even what the rest of the family things or feels, as long as _Carlos _cares? He cares about you, and it's obvious to me that you care about him a whole hell of a lot to put yourself in this kind of situation, what with my dad being a homophobic and all. As far as I'm concerned, you're a member of this family now, and I'm going to treat you just as I would Carlos, or Carmen. So don't worry about what Dad has to say, or what Dad's opinion of you and what you and Carlos have. Okay?"

Cecil allowed Andre's words to sink in, and he swallowed again, this time much more easily, and he felt some of the weight he didn't even know he was carrying lift from his shoulders, his spirit and aura distinctively lighter. He smiled.

"Thank you, Andre." He said. "That…that means a lot to me."

"You're welcome." Andre smiled. "Now, let's get in there. The clock's ticking, and if we're even a minute late, Carmen will have our heads on a silver platter."

Cecil gulped. Somehow, that did not sound pleasant.

...oOo...

Exactly one hour and twenty five minutes later, Cecil and Andre, breathing huge sighs of relief, dropped themselves into two of the large plush chairs in the middle of the food court sitting area, dropping the various bags beside them as they took in a much needed breath.

"Well." Andre said after a moment, pushing himself into a slumped position. "I'd say we did some damage there!"

Cecil had to agree. In the short amount of time he and Andre had spent within the – incredibly normal, as far as shopping malls went, Cecil decided – mall, he had managed to knock off the mass majority of his list, except for Abuela, who Andre had promised would be easy to buy for, and that Carmen would undoubtedly help him in his selection process.

Five minutes later, the two were spotted by Carmen, who grinned as she neared them. Andre raised an eyebrow when it was realized that she was alone.

"Don't tell me you lost our brother again." He groaned playfully.

"Again?!" Carmen placed her hands on her hips dramatically. "I'll have you know, big brother, that that was _one time, _and _he _lost _me_, not the other way around!"

Cecil sniggered, and wondered vaguely if he and his brother had ever had squabbles like this. A dull pain stabbed at his heart as he thought about his lost memories of the boy – was he a man now? Was he even still alive? – that he had once called brother, and he quickly dispelled them, opting instead to wonder just what, exactly, had led to Carlos loosing Carmen.

A few moments later, Carlos came jogging into view, slightly out of breath as he did so. His hands and part of his forearms were completely covered in bags from various stores, boasting an array of colors and designs that sent Cecil spiraling into curiosity.

"Geez, Carmen, think you got enough there?!" Andre said, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, only half of those are mine!" Carmen said, grabbing Carlos's left arm and raising it. "This arm is mine, the other is his. He offered to carry them and I took him up on it."

"Carlos, you're nuts." Andre said, shaking his head.

Carlos shrugged. "Chivalry's not dead."

"Alright!" Carmen said, clapping her hands together once. "Time's ticking! Time to play the old switcharoo!"

She reached out and grasped Cecil's wrist, and began pulling him down the way with her, and he only just managed to grab his bags before she did so. As Carmen dragged him farther away, he heard his boyfriend call out,

"Hey, what about your bags?!"

"Just hold on to them for me, would you?" Carmen called back, winking conspiratorially at Cecil.

"_Seriously?!_" Carlos cried indignantly, followed by Andre's billowing laughter, and Cecil glanced over his shoulder to see him raise his bagged arms in agitation. "I know where you live, Carmen!"

"And I know where your naked baby pictures are!" Carmen sing-songed back loudly as she rounded the corner, finally slowing her pace. She looked at Cecil and gave him a mischievous grin. "Remind me to pass one or two of those along to you. For blackmailing purposes."

Cecil grinned.

"So you still need to buy for Abuela?"

Cecil nodded. "And maybe one more thing for Carlos?"

Carmen laughed. "Me, too." She pointed to ahead of them as she linked her arm with his. "I think there's a Discovery Store up there. And believe me, aside from , if there's any place to buy for Carlos, it's the Discovery Store…"

...oOo...

Carlos gritted his teeth in frustration as he angled the flat of the scissors against the thin slip of ribbon, pulling against it, trying to get the damned thing to _freaking curl_. He winced as the scissors once again sliced into his finger instead, leaving the ribbon in a poor state of half-to-semi curled.

"Dammit." He muttered, sucking on his finger as he laid down the scissors to reach for the piece of tissue paper nearest his ankle, which he pressed to the cut. "I cut myself _again._"

Cecil looked up from the package he was wrapping, and blinked sympathetically.

"Are you certain you don't want me to wrap those for you?" He asked as he placed a strip of tape onto the box he had just finished – expertly, Carlos couldn't help but note dryly – wrapping.

Carlos shook his head. "They invented these things called 'gift bags' for those as inept at wrapping things as me." He mumbled as he reached out and grabbed a piece of tape from the dispenser.

Cecil shrugged. "Suit yourself, dearest Carlos." He went back to humming to himself as he set aside the package and reached for the next one, setting it down on the open wrapping paper. Carlos glanced over the rims of his glasses at the slightly blurry image of his boyfriend through the tendrils of dark hair that fell in his eyes. Where Cecil had learned to wrap so well, he would never know, and he was certain that if he asked, he would be met with an answer that he wasn't sure he was ready to confront. He smiled to himself as he paused to watch Cecil's long fingers expertly fold the shiny red wrapping paper over the expanse of the small box, and he wondered, vaguely, what was in the package. Cecil had been fairly enigmatic about the gifts he had chosen for each of the family, even the one he chose for José. The only clue he had been offered were the various colors of the discrete bags from the stores, any with store names or logos expertly hidden within the confines of a large felt bag from one of the kiosks around the mall. Cecil believed in the element of surprise.

Cecil must have sensed his stare, because he turned his head and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Carlos ducked his head and averted his eyes, cursing the blush he felt spread across his cheeks. Six months dating the man and he _still _blushed like he was in middle school and had gotten caught passing a note in class. Dammit.

He turned his attentions back to the box he was wrapping – a new camera for Andre – and tried hard to ignore the stinging cuts on his fingers and knuckles. He mentally reminded himself to raid the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for some Band Aids, praying that Mamá still kept a steady stock as she had when he had been growing up.

Carlos let out another frustrated sigh as he, once again, was unable to make a steady swipe as he tried to neatly fold the paper. He threw up his hands in exasperation, resigned to the fact that he, Carlos Ramirez, had a PhD, could recite the periodic table from memory, and spoke three languages fluently, but he could not manage to wrap a single box neatly to a somewhat acceptable degree.

"Here." Cecil said suddenly, and he leant over what he was doing and laid his hands on top of Carlos's. "Let me show you."

Gently he guided Carlos's hands over the paper, creasing down the wrinkled edges of the paper smoothly, placing each piece of tape with exact precision, as though he were performing delicate surgery. Carlos blinked and watched in intense fascination as Cecil's hands moved his own, as though they were nothing more than a mere extension of himself, and snugly swaddled the package as though it were a newborn baby.

"There." Cecil said as he let go and sat back, and the back of Carlos's hands mourned the loss of the warm press of Cecil's palms against their skin. Carlos gave a single chuckle, shaking his head.

"Thanks." He said. "I've never been very good at this. When I was younger I used to wrap everyone's gifts in tin foil because it always molded to whatever it was I was wrapping the way I wanted it to, and when I did finally graduate to actual paper, they were more tape than anything."

Cecil smiled. "Well, then it's a very good thing you have me to teach you, then, yes?"

Carlos nodded in agreement. "Very."

"Let's see you try it on your own now, then." Cecil said, nodding at the box behind Carlos, which happened to be the very last thing he had left to wrap (a sweater for Carmen). Carlos reached behind him and grabbed it before he carefully measured out how much paper he'd need according to the gridlines, and cut along them. He then very slowly folded the paper as Cecil had showed him, smoothing down the creases with the heel of his palm as he did so before taping the first edge down onto the cardboard of the box. He repeated the motion with the other side, and the ends, before he finally placed the last piece of tape. He held up his – amazingly neat – success story.

"I can't believe I did it." He said as he grinned like a child presenting their parent with a macaroni diagram of a dinosaur.

Cecil chuckled and leant across the mess between them to stick a green adhesive bow to the middle of Carlos's forehead, pecking him on the cheek.

"You've officially graduated." He said.

Carlos smiled wider and reached a hand out to grasp some of the little bits of ribbon on the floor with the remnants of wrapping and tissue paper, sprinkling them onto Cecil's blond hair like fairy dust in retaliation. Cecil rolled his eyes and shook the bits from his hair, but the grin on his face didn't waver as he did so.

"So are we done, then?" Carlos asked as he peeled the bow from the skin of his forehead carefully.

"I believe so." Cecil said, nodding. "I have nothing else to wrap, at least."

"Good." Carlos said, standing to his feet and brushing the confetti cocktail of paper and ribbon from his jeans, offering a hand to Cecil to help him up, which his boyfriend gladly accepted. "Then let's get this mess cleaned up and these gifts under the tree."

Cecil nodded, and helped to gather the pieces of paper and properly deposit them into the trash bag Carlos had brought with them into his old room so that they could wrap in peace, without the threat of prying eyes – especially those of the younger generation – trying to catch a glimpse of the contents. After every last piece had been successfully rounded up and placed in the bag, Carlos tied the corners and sat it next to the door.

The two then gathered the brightly colored gifts into their arms, teetering a bit, and slowly made their way into the living room.

Maria looked up from her book on the couch next to Ashley, and stood to her feet.

"_Necesita ayuda?_" She asked.

_"Sí, por favor!_" Carlos answered. "_Muchas gracias, Mamá._"

Maria quickly took a few of Carlos's packages and placed them beneath the tree as she knelt beside it, carefully arranging the gifts around the others. Carlos then helped Cecil to unload his armful, joining Maria on the floor.

"There!" Maria proclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Beautiful!"

Carlos helped his mother to stand, nodding in agreement. Now that the tree had been successfully decorated, and the presents had been bought and wrapped without any major fatalities to his fingerprints, it was finally, _finally _beginning to feel more like Christmas.

Carlos turned to look at his boyfriend, only to find that Cecil had been dragged away by the twins to sit in the fort he had built for them earlier. Cecil's tall, lanky frame meant that he had to hunch himself over in order to fit within the tight space, but the grin on his face as he picked up a crayon to color in one of Gracie's coloring books resonated the fact that he hardly cared at all. With all the crouching in the fetal position he did during contract negotiations with Station Management back at NVCR, Carlos was hardly surprised.

With Cecil occupied, Carlos supposed it was time to start pestering his brother for more information on that unborn child of his…

...oOo...

"Carlos."

Carlos groaned as he felt someone shaking his shoulder, blearily blinking open his eyes. He was still slumped into the corner of the couch nearest the kids' fort, his cheek resting on his fist, his elbow on the arm of the couch. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, not bothering to remove his glasses to do so. He had only meant to close his eyes for a few minutes while he listened in on Cecil's stories of Night Vale to the twins and Gracie, but he must have fallen asleep instead.

"Wakey wakey, sleepyhead!" Carmen crooned, grinning at him.

Carlos shook his head, and looked around the room.

"Where is everybody?" He asked, stretching out his arms and standing to his feet. "How long was I out?"

"A couple hours." Carmen admitted. "Everyone else has gone to bed. I'm debating whether or not I should try to wrestle Gracie away from your boyfriend."

Sure enough, when Carlos glanced down at the entrance of the blanket fort, he found Cecil laying there on the floor, just outside the entrance of the fort, one arm behind his head, the other wrapped around the little girl sleeping peacefully on his chest like a kitten, a small smile on her serene face. Inside the fort slept Donovan and Cody, curled against one another in the nest of pillows and blankets.

"I think you've been dethroned as the favorite uncle." Carmen said playfully as she nudged Carlos with her shoulder.

Carlos smirked lightly as he nodded his head in agreement, gazing down at the placid scene of his niece curled comfortably against Cecil's chest.

"Well, if I had to be dethroned, there's no one I'd rather be dethroned by." He said softly.

Carmen smiled before she crouched beside the sleeping form of Cecil, reaching out and untangling Gracie from beneath Cecil's arm.

"C'mon, Sleeping Beauty," she whispered to her daughter as she stirred, her brow furrowing grumpily as she was pulled from her slumber. "Let's get you home."

Gracie shook her against her mother's shoulder.

"Don't wanna." She whined. "Wanna stay here."

"I know, but you're staying here Christmas Eve with the boys, remember? We told Santa you'd be here in our letter. And I have to work tomorrow afternoon, so you can come here and play with Tío Carlos and Tío Cecil then, okay?"

Gracie nodded, and Carmen gently stroked her daughter's curls before standing to her feet. Cecil hadn't moved a bit from the sudden loss of the little girl against him, still snoring quietly. Carmen adjusted Gracie against her shoulder and grabbed her purse and Gracie's coat from where they had been placed on the couch, raising her eyebrows and nodding her head at Cecil.

"Iiiiii'd leave him there if I were you." She advised her older brother. "He seems pretty comfortable."

Carlos chuckled. "He's a heavy sleeper; he can sleep just about anywhere. I once found him taking a nap on his desk at the radio station."

Carmen giggled. "Please tell me you have photographic evidence."

Carlos shook his head. "My phone had decided to grow legs and run away from me that day." He said.

Carmen swallowed, and Carlos suddenly realized what he had said.

"Carlos, those stories Cecil told the kids…" She said, slowly. "I get the impression that they aren't just stories?"

Carlos sighed, and shook his head. "Some of them are." He said. "But some are actually true. I wasn't kidding when I said Night Vale is the Mecca of scientific inquiry."

Carmen's blue eyes fell to the man on the floor.

"Cecil, is he…?"

"He's human, if that's what you're asking." Carlos assured her. "Though sometimes I question the humanity of several of Night Vale's residents. I question a lot of things nowadays."

"But not him." It wasn't a question.

Carlos shook his head. "Never him."

After a few moments of silence, Carmen nodded her head and smiled as she reached out her free hand and squeezed Carlos's shoulder.

"Good." She said. "If you don't question him, then neither will I. But, I _do _expect more stories about Night Vale. I found his fascinating. I want an outsider's opinion."

Carlos laughed. "I'll tell you tomorrow." He promised. "When you get out of work."

"Deal!" Carmen said, and she nodded, sealing the deal. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have about forty pounds of deadweight currently drooling on my shoulder that I'd like to get into bed, so I'll see you tomorrow, Carlos."

Carlos walked her to the door, and made sure she made it safely to her car without slipping before he ventured back into the living room. He grabbed the Afghan blanket Abuela had knitted from the back of his father's recliner and a pillow from the couch, gently slipping it beneath Cecil's head before he spread the blanket over him.

"Goodnight, _querido._" He whispered as he pressed a kiss to Cecil's forehead. "_Te amo._"

In his sleep, Cecil smiled.

* * *

**I've had the scene where Gracie falls asleep on Cecil's chest planned since the beginning, because it's my headcanon that Cecil is really good with kids, and kids love him. I mean, who wouldn't?! :) (I've also had the climax planned since the very very very beginning, so all this fluff sort of just came around to cushion the blow that's coming. I have warned thee, dear listeners. I have warned thee well.) **

**-**  
**Translations:  
-Qué hermoso árbol!: "What a beautiful tree!"  
-Gracias: "Thank you"  
-Necesita ayuda: "Need help?"  
-Sí, por favor: "Yes, please"  
-Muchas gracias: "Thank you very much"**


End file.
